Misshapen Spark
by Toasty Kit
Summary: She had made a mistake. She'd thought him as just another Pawn to add to her collection. When she had finally noticed it was already too late. He was no Pawn, he was a Knight: A Sword; one that would make this Queen remember what it meant to feel like a Princess once more. Rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Misshapen Spark

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything related to the Fate Series or RWBY other than merchandise and a shit ton of servants in FGO.

**Author's Notes: Haven't written much of anything in recent years but this specific case of creative blue balls refused to die so here we are.**

**Just as a word of warning for anyone who may end up liking this: updates will be sporadic at times. This will most likely be due to my job as an active duty member of the armed force and won't always have access to a reliable means to upload new content.**

**With that out of the way I hope you enjoy.**

XxXxX

Chapter 1: Just Passing Through

XxXxX

"Please, please I insist." A woman called whilst ushering open the worn oak wood door of her residence for her departing guest.

She was a tiny thing, sporting short chocolate brown hair and a pair of rectangular spectacles sitting just at the edge of her button nose.

"I appreciate the offer Mrs. Scarlatina but I really shouldn't." A warm voice followed behind her. "You already paid me for the heater issue."

In contrast to her, the man she was seeing out was a giant; towering over her by nearly a full head in height even when considering the perky rabbit ears sprouting from her hairline. Huge to her but in reality, to everyone else, he was simply above average. Though, while his size could be called normal, the rest of his appearance could not.

His hair predominantly consists of a snow white edged by locks of red. Cream shaded skin was marred by tongues of tanned pigment flickering from his left shoulder like fire. The juxtaposition of pigments and hues giving him somewhat of a "scorched" appearance. Initially, she had thought his appearance had been altered but some carefully placed verbal prodding had yielded the opposite to be true.

The golden orbs gleaming from his sockets were arguably the most striking of his features. Molten irises bordered by a wariness that looked alien on one so young. This opinion, however, changed when she caught him staring off into space with an unnerving stillness, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath before returning back to his work. It was a look different from the raw emotion she would see often see on her children after they had woken up from a bad dream. This one wasn't so fleeting; a mere inconvenience at this point, as if he had endured the nightmares for years now.

All this, and that was not even touching upon the proverbial elephant in the room.

"But the amount you offered to take was so little." Mrs. Scarlatina rebutted; her better judgement preventing her gaze from locking on to his left side…and the arm that was sorely absent from its socket. "There's no way that much covers for a full day of work."

"I really don't mind. You and your family certainly need it more than I do." He said, casting an eye to the home filled with one too many hungry mouths than it should be able to handle before returning his gaze toward his meager surroundings, the empty sleeve of his working coveralls fluttering gently in the wind.

Vale as a whole was often considered to be the most beautiful of all four of Remnant's Kingdoms: Sanus' Shining Green Jewel some would say. With such an exclaimed reputation many found it difficult imagining the sanctuary of humanity as anything but perfect. Nonetheless, despite its vastness, Vale at its core was still a city and was not exempt from the ails that plague its lesser cousins.

"It's never wrong to help others." He added with a smile.

The woman's expression softened upon hearing those words. They sounded so odd when being associated with a simple electrical problem; as if they were more accustomed for some greater purpose.

Despite having never served the cause herself, she was not blind to all the factors that outline people such as him. Muscles too defined to have been gained while on the job, palm callused in the manner customary with wielding weapons and the unconditional desire to help others were telltale signs of someone who has served in the fight against humanity's most ancient enemy.

The missing arm only highlighted the fact.

To see a man who had risked his life protecting those who would never care in such a sorry state was unacceptable in her eyes.

"Take it." She said firmly, shoving the lien into his remaining hand.

"Ma'am I've already said you don't need the extra money."

"It was hard wasn't it?" Someone like this deserved to be where they were meant to be; not tolling away their lives as some civil servant.

"Um, what was?"

"Trying to get by but not being able to do what you were meant to do, being force to have to adapt to different way of life to survive." She had heard stories of veterans being forced to retire after receiving an injury in battle. The fact that he hadn't given up hope despite his situation was inspiring.

"Mrs. Scarlatina…I don't think we're exactly on the same page here." She wasn't having a word of it; patting his back affectionately on her way back inside.

"Keep the lien. It's the least I could do for what you sacrificed in order to keep us safe." Perhaps with the extra money he would eventually be able to afford a prosthetic. It would at least make his life easier even if he didn't return to keeping the peace.

"Okay, now I'm certain you are definitely-" A door slamming in his face was his reply. "-Misunderstanding something."

He could already see his client skipping her way inside, pleased with herself for her supposed good deed. A sigh left him as his single hand moved to scratch the back of his scalp.

"Maybe I should stick to wearing a cape or something to hide the missing arm." At least then he wouldn't keep getting falsely labeled as some kind of war veteran.

"Please don't." The telltale purr of a woman's voice called to him from behind. "You'd look ridiculous."

He didn't even have to turn to associate the voice with its owner.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me."

A woman of athletic build and luscious jet-black hair wearing a white blouse and jeans greeted him. Her fiery orange eyes gleaming back at him with near predatory intent. Her smile dripping with a mischievous alure.

"Stalk is such a…harsh word." A slender finger traced her lips in thought. "…I prefer the term secret admirer."

"You know, that tends to be what stalkers start as." He replied flatly, descending the stairs leading to the home to meet her.

"Perhaps~." She drolled in a breath that could ignite the hearts of lesser men. Her arms crossing in front of her torso to extenuate the curves of her chest. "Afterall, the line between infatuation and obsession can be oh so very thin."

"And which one would you be?" He questioned, coming to a stop in front of her.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" A soft, manicured hand came to caress his sharp features. "A better question would be: which one do you prefer?"

Golden yellow rolled within their sockets at her antics. His response came in a more forceful imitation of her actions.

Her confident visage shattered under the firm grip to her chin. Year of being on the offensive had left her vulnerable to attack. Before she could develop a perfectly measured defense a pair of lips met her own, her legs threatening to fail had she not braced herself on his steady form.

"I prefer the one that is Cinder." He accentuated with a soft smile.

The newly identified Cinder didn't dare to meet his gaze. A hand instantly moving to conceal the developing redness threatening to manifest on her face.

Internally, she had devolved into a cacophony of self-loathing. What was she, some kind of lovestruck teenage? Some wet behind the ears huntress with her head in the clouds?

If the others caught wind of this, she would never hear the end of it. Watts in particular was already insufferable by default, imagining such a man being even more unbearable didn't seem feasibly possible to her but she wouldn't take her chances. She already had to fight for her right to head this operation; she couldn't risk compromising her only opportunity to prove herself.

It was just then that the source of her current plight had turned to find that he had been walking on his own for a while now. He turned to find his lover paralyzed in thought. With how flustered she could get when caught off guard she was beginning to act like a certain twin-tailed girl that he had known in the past. For a moment, a somber expression flashed upon his features before dissipating just as quickly as it had come.

"Oi Cinder, you coming?" He called, shaking her out of her musing and causing her to quickly make strides to meet him. He offered his single hand which she took with a hint of hesitance; taking great care only to cup there hands rather than lace their fingers together.

A portion of the light in Cinder's eyes died upon realizing she had just pondered the significance of which manner of holding hands was more appropriate with her significant other.

She refused to call him her boyfriend!

"After washing up I was thinking about making steak tonight for dinner; well-done just the way you like it." He pondered out loud.

"You don't have to change the way you cook for me." Cinder responded in an uncharacteristically meek tone. "Anything you make is good." Her internal-self raged at her rebellious mouth for making her sound so weak.

"My cooking is nothing special." Cinder nearly called bullshit on that notion. "But I can hope that it will be when I make with someone I care about in mind."

"That's rather thoughtful of you." She said in tone palpable with confidence, as if to make up for her recent lack of tact.

"Anything for my Princess." He said with a sickening sweetness causing the subject of his affection to release a nauseating groan.

"Can you be any cornier?"

"Yes, but for your sake, I'm holding back just in case that grin gets stuck on your face forever." He teased.

She gasped, her vacant hand balling into a fist as to prevent it from shooting to cover her expression lest she admit defeat. "J-Just do whatever you want." Her skin paled a shade whiter.

"_Who are you!?"_

Cinder Fall does not stutter!

He merely nodded with a pleased grin on his face, oblivious to her internal plight.

It was never meant to be this way. He was supposed to be wrapped around_ Her_ finger not the other way around; a tool to be groomed and thrown away just like all the others.

When had that changed?

Other than his appearance, he had been so mundane, so assumingly unassuming that she had never seen the big picture. No, that wasn't right. There never was a big picture to begin with, no ulterior motive. What had caught her attention simply was, in his own words, "Nothing special". Yet she had never believed him. In the real world, no one was ever what they seemed. Backstabbing was as present as the sky and deception was spread as easily as breathing.

No matter how many ways the kingdoms painted it: the world isn't a kind place.

Everyone had an agenda.

Everyone lied.

Everyone was selfish.

Everyone…except for him.

And she supposed that had made all the difference.

She hated it, hated him…or… at least that is what she used to tell herself. Now, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Her grip tightened in his hand, causing him to turn toward her with the same concerned look as always.

"I'm fine." She grit through clenched teeth, her fingers consciously easing their grip.

He didn't appear to be satisfied by her answer but neither did he pry; resuming whatever he had been talking about before she had unintentionally interrupted him.

He was a distraction.

She hadn't come to Vale in order to play games. If only she could go back in time and warn her past self of what was to come; to spare her from this temptation, this drug; striking a line between this fantasy and what really mattered.

As the thought crossed her mind she returned from her hapless gazing at the soot and grim of the underbelly of Vale to catch the side of a face that she quickly found herself losing herself in. And before she knew it, Cinder Fall: Future Maiden, Criminal Mastermind, and Lieutenant to the Mother of All Grimm eased herself into her boyfriend's shoulder to be whisked away into a life that she did not deserve.

Whether she could turn back time wasn't the issue anymore.

But rather whether she would be able bring herself to stop this future from occurring even if she did.

XxXxX

Cinder Fall wished she could control time. Specifically, to fast-forward time to a moment in the future where she wasn't behind the wheel of a Bullhead. Honestly, the details didn't matter anymore. She could be flown forward as soon as this heist's conclusion to the inevitable heat death of Remnant's star. Bone chilling uncertainty would still be preferable to the present.

Why you ask?

"Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

"It's one of life's great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here?" This was only the most recent example of stupidity that had plagued her this night. Now if only she could find a way to physically force her brain to cease its ability to process sound in order to spare herself from the acute brain cell death of simply decoding the vibrations being produced from these idiots' mouths.

"_It's just for this one mission. Before long Adam Taurus' men will have arrived in Vale and then they will be the one's handling this." _The thought hadn't helped. If anything, it made it worse knowing that there was a rational and legitimate reason for why she was subjecting herself to this torture.

She had to question the sanity of her past self for believing that piloting an aircraft would be a worthwhile skill to have.

"I mean, why do they call it a Bullhead anyways? It doesn't really look like a bull. If anything, I think it looks more like a puma."

"What in Sam Hell is a puma?" A third one decided to add to her plight by chiming in.

Simply occupying her thoughts was proving to no longer be a sufficient means of escapism. She needed a distraction fast!

Spheres of fire shot around the cockpit of the aircraft fruitlessly. Finding no means to draw away her attention inside. Instead, she turned her perspective outward toward one of their contact's men across the vacant lot they were parked in. He seemed almost hysterical with the level of enthusiasm he was thanking the man at the door. The man in question sported a sheepish expression on his face, seemingly unsure of what to do with the man's thanks.

At first, Cinder had thought that he had been another one of Junior's goons but upon further inspection it was clear that he was cut from a different cloth; the likes of which he only wore the under portion, having forgone the red and black jacket and headwear that was typical of the club staff. His unique physical characteristic caused him to stick out like a sore thumb amongst his clone-like peers. In short, he looked more like a Huntsman than anything else, bearing the bombastic features that was customary for humanity's beacons of hope in the darkness. That was including the missing limb of course.

Oh, the story behind that one would no doubt have been a good one to tell around the campfire.

As she pictured the eyes of children sparkling in wonder at an experienced Huntsman's tales one particular thought stuck with her. If this man truly was a Huntsman, what was he doing covering for some no-name back alley goon?

To pay for a new arm perhaps? It would have been a sound argument for a civilian but, as a fully licensed Huntsman, he would be privy to all the benefits that protectors of humanity enjoy: free healthcare being one of the more noteworthy perks. It wouldn't do for a Huntsman to be permanently put out of commission by a measly case of dismemberment; that wasn't even accounting for all the potential wasted years involved in training a new huntsman. And with the sheer number of horrors she had witnessed at the heels of her master: Humanity needed every Huntsman they could get.

"Hey you there, wrap it up already! You can make kissy faces at each other later!" Her Vale liaison announced his oh so elegant arrival. "How's it going boss? You miss me?"

"Hardly." Cinder grumbled out, trying with all her might to distance herself from her temporarily demeaning position as transport.

Luckily for her, (after flexing a portion of her power) he had quickly learned that any derogatory nicknames that he had become accustomed of calling his usual clientele were strictly off the table. Unluckily for her, he also just so happened to be Roman Torchwick: an egotistical, self-proclaimed "gentleman" who was fortunate enough to have his fingers in nearly every pot of anyone that mattered in Vale's underground. A useful ally to have when conducting anything that needed to be done under the table.

"Well we'll just have to fix that now won't we." He mused while lighting another one of his ever-present cigars.

He was also a scientifically proven ass.

Upon seeing that that harmless quip had indeed stoked a _literal _fire in his current employer's eye Roman quickly chose to deflect her ire toward something more productive. "S-So uh what's the plan boss?"

"A little test run if you will." Cinder said, transitioning from murderous to professional effortlessly. "The target is a dust shop going by the name: _From Dust Tilll Dawn_. One of the few dust shops that are open 24 hours a day."

"Quiet the pitch. Though, I'd imagine that a place like that wouldn't be getting much business at this hour."

"Precisely."

"Smash and grab then, sounds easy enough."

"It should be a simple job."

"Is that doubt I smell boss? Come on, where's the vote of confidence? I do jobs like this all the time. We'll be in and out before the fuzz has any idea we were even there."

Cinder chose not to add to the conversation. Somehow, she got the feeling that tonight wouldn't be as simple as he had predicted.

XxXxX

"Thank you again for doing this." The Man exclaimed with genuine relief.

He merely waved the man off. "It really is no trouble at all. It's not like I had any plans tonight to begin with."

"That still doesn't undercut how much of a lifesaver you are. The club was going to be absolutely scrapped for manpower with how many of us were volun-told by the boss for this new job." He said while gesturing to the bullhead parked out back.

"I'd hardly call myself a lifesaver." He didn't deserve such a title. "I doubt that I'll make much of a difference in the work load. Though, that does bring to question why you're concerned about the clubs manning in the first place. From how you put it, it sounds like your boss was the one to assign you to this job in the first place, why should it be your responsibility to find a replacement? If he couldn't spare the bodies, he wouldn't have pawn your group off in the first place."

"Well you're not wrong." The man laughed off. "All of us are dime a dozen really, outside of hard labor and simple tasking most of us aren't much good for anything." The matter hadn't even needed to be clarified to be evident. Even to the untrained eye, it was clear that most of the near identical looking personnel wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a real firearm and a toy that fired foam darts. "But despite that, the boss still keeps hiring worthless guys like us when he could probably use the money for something better."

"It's alright, you've said enough already." He assured the man before the talk began to tread into personal territory. Perhaps he had been too quick to judge the integrity of this place.

"Hey you there, wrap it up already!" A voice cried from the direction of the airship.

"Well, looks like you're up."

"Yeah," The man chuckled out before his posture straightened to a more confident stance. "I'll be sure to save you a piece of the cut when this is over."

"That really isn't necessary but I appreciate the sentiment regardless." He said, watching the shrinking back of the man before returning back into the dance club to his position behind the counter.

"Had yourself a nice chat, Shirou?"

"Mr. Gray is a rather honest man." Shirou stated simply, rummaging behind the counter to better organize the glassware so that it would be more easily accessible during the late-night rush.

"If by honest then you mean scatter brained then yeah, he sure is." A man brandishing a full beard and a more relaxed version of the club uniform similar to Shirou's own grumbled in a way that spoke of a history that would not be revealed tonight.

He chuckled whilst moving about the bar with a sense of familiarity that should have been impossible for a temporary hire. It was rare for his men to find people that were actually better at their job than they were to cover for them. While he appreciated the sentiment, it was more often than not that their substitutes made a complete dog's dinner of the place than not.

Initially, he had elected to have him work as the bus boy for fear of him mucking up anything too complicated but before he could assign him his position, Shirou was already behind the bar serving customers left and right. Even making drinks that he previously hadn't trusted anyone but himself to make. Hell, even the whole one-armed thing was proving to be a boon. With the creative maneuvers that he had to use in order to compensate for his lacking appendage playing out more like a parlor trick to the masses.

Man, it was nice having someone competent with him behind the bar for once.

In fact, now that he thought about it…

"Hey, Emiya."

"Yes Boss?" He asked innocently while sliding a drink over to an awaiting customer's hand.

"You'd just arrived in Vale, right?"

"Just arrived this morning actually."

"Do you, by chance, have a place to stay?"

Shirou rubbed the inside of his palm across his chin. "Not particularly. I was hoping just to make it up as I go."

Junior spied a bar patron walk away with one of Shirou's drinks in hand. The moment the drink touched his lips his eyes became alight with astonishment before downing the drink as if the sting of alcohol hadn't graced his tongue. His group, seeing their friend's reaction, flocked to Shirou's side of the bar with a new fever. Before he knew it there was a near triple in the amount of bar goers with drinks in their hands, some of which being ones who he had recognized as strictly non-alcoholic club goers (as strange as that may sound, they did in fact exist).

Junior poured himself a shot glass of some leftover cocktail that Shirou hadn't got around to cleaning up just yet. Eager to see what all the fuss was about.

Memories of an island off the coast of Vale welled within his mind's eye; the rush of the ocean waves, the refreshing taste of fruit under the summer sun, the warmth of a passing flame. And before he knew it, just like the springtime of his youth…the drink was gone.

Awaking from his stupor with shock, Junior surveyed his surrounds to see what secret ingredient he hadn't known he had kept in stock had been put in such a heavenly drink. He looked left, then right, and even under the counter. Yet no matter where he looked only two bottles stared back at him mockingly: Pineapple Gin and Tonic…

…What kind of sorcery was this?

"Well, if it means anything to you? The boys and I would love to have you, as a full-timer I mean."

Upon seeing Shirou's lack of reaction Junior began to feel a sense of urgency in recruiting his future second bartender.

"We'll even cover for your rent, at least until you can stand on your own feet." He upped the offer while scrutinizing the two bottles as if to glean some kind of deeper meaning from the items.

Growing up in the underbelly of Vale, Hei Xiong did not have a lot of pride in many things. His club was one of the few exceptions to that rule. As a bartender of several years in his own right he had thought he had reached a level of mastery that was to be proud of.

He was wrong.

A man that could have passed for an invalid had come and made his craft appear like a dark smudge on society, a mistake that wasn't even worth bringing attention to. The fruits of his profession being nothing more than garbage that had fallen from the tree whose sole purpose was to never be sold.

And he had nearly had him cleaning tables…

"Around these parts we treat our employees like family. If you become a part of the crew you won't want for anything ever again. I'll even throw in a starting bonus for your first paycheck. As uh…a little welcome present for your arrival in Vale." Junior could feel his value as man decrease with each line spoken. He might as well have been groveling. "So whaddaya say?"

At this point, it didn't matter what lengths he had to go through to acquire Shirou Emiya as his own. Just on skillset alone he would be able to make back the initial cost in no time at all. Not only would he gain a god level mixologist under his belt but by encompassing him within a veil of companionship he was preventing a potential rival from sprouting up and running him out of business. It was a win, win in his eyes.

However, before he could hear the man's reply a distraction as bright as the sun in the middle of July shined in front of his counter demanding his attention. A girl, possessing an absolutely healthystart on her path to womanhood sat before him with a mischievous smirk on her face.

Sunkissed blonde hair, lavender eyes absent of fear, and a color-scheme that spoke of fire: A Huntress.

Junior felt the skin on the back of his neck crawl. People like her would only spell trouble.

"Strawberry Sunrise, no ice. Oh, and one of those little umbrella things too if you have them!" Junior gleaned every scrap of useful information as he could from her order. Strawberry Sunrises were a non-alcoholic drink, popular with teenagers who still wanted to feel like adults at social gatherings. She was underaged, given her…_assets _he was more inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.

A Huntress-in-Training then.

That only made things worse.

Seasoned veterans had greater control over their powers; years of experience on the field against Grimm and humans alike had tempered their control so that they wouldn't flex their power unless thoroughly provoked. Trainees were still coming to terms with their newfound strength, wound together about as tightly as teenage hormones could keep virtual superhuman powers in check: which was close to not at all.

Wordlessly, Junior motioned for Melanie and Militia to stick close by. He turned to fashion the girl's drink when she raised her hand to stop him.

"He can make me my drink," she said while motioning to Shirou," You~ on the other hand, have something I need." She added, turning back to the bar owner.

"Sorry, but you're a little too young for my taste." His prod at her age only seemed to ignite a playful spark in her eye.

"Ha, that's funny you should say that because you look a little old to be going by a name like Junior."

"So, you know who I am." That didn't bode well for him. A Huntress-in-Training who was not only scouring the underground but a one that was looking for him specifically. "You got a name Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Junior I have several but instead of Sweetheart," her grin had yet to leave her cheeks and had even seemed to grow just a tad wider as she played with the edges of his tie, "You can call me **Sir!**" A pitch that Junior didn't even know he was still capable of producing was squeezed out of him along with the pair of jewels threatening to burst under the girl's vice like grip.

A grown man struggled against the bar's counter, unable to escape the grasps of a single teenage girl.

"People say you know everything. Tell me where to find her and I'll let you go." She bargained, flashed the screen of scroll to reveal a raven haired woman bearing a striking resemblance to Junior's tormentor.

"I-I've…never seen her before…I swear!" Apparently, she hadn't liked that answer as her stranglehold on his boys increasing to dangerous levels.

"…Excuse me." The no-nonsense voice of one Shirou Emiya announced. "I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

"_No! _/ **Yes!**" Interrogator and prisoner called as one. The girl shot a glare at the man and a new squeal eked out of him.

"I'm sorry but your drink is ready miss." The one-armed man presented like a typical Sebastian. A salesman-like smile flashing unperturbed despite the situation at hand.

"I appreciate the thought but I'm kind of busy here." The blonde said while chancing a sip.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Before long, her lips refused to leave the glass until the drink was properly finished.

"Wow! That's the best Strawberry Sunrise I've ever tasted! I'll be sure to point myself in the opposite direction of you when I have to punch my way out of here." She punctuated with a tall swig of her glass only to be met with only ice.

"About that." Shirou said while shooting a look at the emasculated man who had apparently been forgotten in favor of what was ultimately just soda mixed with strawberry grenadine. "I'd rather we end things right here and now before things get out of hand."

"Ha! Out of hand, I get it!" She giggled while slamming her glass down on the counter top. Whether Shirou had intended for that to be a pun or not was not evident but he did not laugh.

"Come on what's with the stony face? Am I the only one with a sense of humor here?" Her free hand moved to playful rap against his chest but immediate recoiled back to her chest. "Ah~ You know you're built out much sterner stuff then you look handsome. Maybe you really are made of stone or something."

"Close, steel would be a more fitting analogy though." The blonde seemed too preoccupied nursing her swollen hand to respond. "Afterall…_My Body Is Made of Blades_."

"Blades huh? That's kind of a weird thing to say-…" The girl's words were cut in their path, the hairs on the back of the girl's neck stood on end. The hand that had been keeping Junior hostage, shot to her neck as if to stop the bleeding for a wound that wasn't there. A terror filled expression whipped around in the direction of the unassuming man; wild lavender met steely gray.

Pupils expanded into saucers; her breathing escalated to manic levels.

"Sleep."

Then, as if all traces of sentience had been bled from her, she collapsed into Shirou's awaiting arm.

"Wh-Whoa." Junior gasped out in between nursing his bruised groin. "What did you do to her?"

"Just some simple hypnosis. She should be up and ready to go by tomorrow morning."

"That's quite the Semblance you have there."

"Yeah, Semblance." Shirou uttered more than he confirmed.

Seeing that he wasn't going to get an explanation, Junior straightened up his attire in a failed attempt to save face in front of a potential business associate. "I meant what I said you know. I could really use someone like you here with us."

Any form of blatant pandering had evaporated form his tone. "Between you and me, the boys are pretty helpless. If Blondie here had actually popped off there's no telling what would have happened to them. Melanie, Militia and I can only do so much; it would mean the world to them if they had another person to have their backs when some of the real big shots decide to throw their weight around."

Shirou did not answer immediately, hoisting up the teen in a manner that would support the weight of young woman despite his disability. "I appreciate the offer but I should really get this girl back home. It wouldn't look too well if word got out that underage girls were falling unconscious here."

Junior's breath hitched in his throat at the implications. However. he was quick to banish the thought, his shoulders sagged with acceptance. "No, no it wouldn't."

"I'll be on my way then. It was pleasant working you with even if it wasn't for very long."

"Likewise."

Shirou bowed his head lightly, making his way to the back exit with the girl at his hip; attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible to any scathing eyes.

"Don't be afraid to swing by if you're in the area. I'll have a drink as good as yours waiting for you next time."

"I look forward to it. Have a good night Mr. Xiong." He called over his shoulder. Just as he was about to exit the building a pair of twins barred his path.

"She doesn't look like much." The one is red spoke with an even tone whilst taking stock of the girl resting in his grasp.

"I bet we could have taken her easy." The one in white boasted with absolute confidence.

His gave the twins a quick once over, his gaze linger on their hands and feet respectively. "No, you wouldn't have." He response not presented as a claim but as fact.

They would lose.

The twins didn't appear to have appreciated that revelation, their identical faces scrunching in offense. "Whatever/Whatever." They echoed before strutting off into the crowd.

Shirou merely shook his head, not understanding what he had done to gain their scorn.

XxXxX

It didn't take much searching to find the mode of transportation that the Huntress-in-Training had used to get to the club.

Yellow just like the sun of her hair with black detailing the motorcycle stood out amongst the drab of their surroundings. Bold and bright: a perfect fit for a girl with enough balls to strongarm a minor gang boss by _his own balls_.

He propped her up on her bike, its dashboard coming alive once its owner's Scroll verification had been identified. Though now that he had gotten her to this point, he was kind of at a loss of what to do next.

He had ridden a bike or two in his past but that had been before he had been…indisposed. That wasn't even factoring in that he had no idea where she lived even if he managed to figure out a way to drive with one hand.

He would have pondered this further but it appeared that life had deemed such things to be unnecessary at the moment.

An avian call reverberated through the parking structure. Shirou took in a deep breath through his nostrils, turning in a direction away where Bumblebee was parked.

A disheveled man with deep black hair and dulled red eyes materialized where there had not been a soul before.

Shirou's nostrils crinkled in disgust.

He could already smell the alcohol from here…

"Two-Face."

"Good evening, Mr. Branwen."

"Okay, no. Stop that."

"Pardon?" Shirou said with genuine confusion in voice.

"Yes, that!" Seeing that he wasn't taking the hint, the man grumbled a slur under his breath. "You know, being so~…what's the word…straight? No, that's not it. Clean? Peaceful? Nah, that's not right either. God what's the word? Starts with a P…"

It had to be a word the man probably didn't use very often, otherwise he wouldn't be having such trouble pulling it from his vocabulary. Inversing this thought process, Shirou simply thought of an opposite of a word that could be used to describe Qrow Branwen,

"Polite?"

"That's~ the word! That!" Qrow sputtered, taking great care with avoiding saying it himself; as if the sheer pronunciation of it would be against his existence. "It makes it harder to hate you."

That and being addressed solely by his last name was just unnerving. Not even his boss called him that. It just didn't feel right.

Shirou's brow furrowed, confused. It was rare that a person would want to be treated less respectfully. More personably maybe but he doubted a man like Qrow wanted anything to do with him.

"Apologies, I guess? Force of habit." He said falling back on his old nervous tick whenever he had upset a person in a way he didn't quite understand.

"That seems unlikely." Qrow noted, causing Shirou's hand to cease its scratching. "The only places where someone would build up a habit like that is in the Police Force or the Military. Both of which just don't seem like your kind of wheelhouse." Even Mistral, which customarily positioned the Familial Name before the Given Name didn't address people as such.

Shirou motioned to refute the idea but decided against it. Doing so would only insight more suspicion. This is what made dealing with Qrow so difficult. It wasn't very often that someone so consistently belligerent could also be so quick witted.

"So, what gives? Last time I checked you weren't in the babysitting business."

"I wouldn't be against the idea in all honesty." Qrow snorted at Shirou's words as if he had just heard something ridiculous. "Others have called me a bit of a mother hen at times. You, on the other hand, I would expect to warm up to kids just as easily as you do non-alcoholic drinks."

"Ha, hit the nail on the head with that one."

"Aren't you supposed to be a teacher?"

"Whazz yur point?" Qrow muffled voice sounded from around the neck of his flask. Just because he taught the brats didn't mean he had to like them. Plus, it's not like he spent much time at Signal once his youngest niece had been old enough to pick up her weapon without tipping over. Being the eyes and ears of a secret cult hellbent on keeping Remnant from descending into chaos saw to that.

Shirou merely rolled his eyes. Some people really were just lost causes.

"Normally, you'd be right but I'll make an exception for my own brats." Qrow said, finally bringing attention to the girl propped up on her motorcycle as if she had fallen asleep face first at the controls.

"…Oh…I…I mean she kind of looks like you but…I hadn't known that you…well you know…" Shirou's expression visibly warped with disgust. As if the very thought of the man reproducing was an afront to him.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?! Qrow bellowed out in an uncustomary sign of offense. "Besides, she's not mine she's Raven's kid…not that that really means anything." With the clan's traditions you were more likely to find love and affection from a random person on the street than with your own parents.

"Huh? I'd thought I'd recognized her from somewhere."

"Great, and with that "Big Reveal" out of the way I might as well take 'er off your hands. Er- well hand." The huntsman quickly corrected.

"Be my guest." Seeing no harm in it, he made way for the girl's uncle.

"Much obliged." Qrow thanked while positioning himself on the bike in such a way that his niece wouldn't fall off just in case his semblance decided to make the way back home more unpleasant then it needed to be.

"Are sure you're okay to drive that?" Shirou rightfully asked.

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm only a little drunk!" (Driving under the influence is bad kids!)

"While that is also troubling that wasn't what I was referring to." Shirou hissed between his teeth as his ears were subject to the worrisome noises coming from Bumblebee due to Qrow's fumbling with the controls.

"Ah, there we go," The engine of the motorcycle finally settling into a gentle purr. "No need to worry. I test drove the thing myself before passing her off to good Ol' Firecracker here." He said while running a hand through his niece's golden locks.

The rigidity in Shirou's form softened at the display. "She must really mean a lot to you for you to shell out so much for her." He had taken the man for a cheapskate but perhaps he was wrong about him in more ways than one.

"Who said anything about paying?" Okay back down to one. That hadn't lasted long.

"Only you." Qrow gave off a huff of amusement at the comment.

"Welp, I better get this one back home." Qrow said, revving the engine. "But before I go, something has been bothering me."

"What are _you_ doing in Vale Shirou Emiya?" The sudden edge to Qrow's tone brought an uncomfortable smile to form on Shirou's lips.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just passing through?"

"I would…if you hadn't said that exact same thing every other time we met."

Realizing that Qrow was not going to budge on the subject, Shirou decided to offer a bit of assurance. "Look, if it means anything to you; I don't plan on getting involved with anything while in Vale. I'll just carry out the occasion odd job here and there and move on like I always do."

"That's what I was afraid of." Qrow noted under his breath before driving off.

"Have a safe trip." Shirou waved off.

He didn't get a reply back.

XxXxX

Yang had been soundly put to bed and he had bumped his funny bone on the door on his way out as per usual. The results of his semblance hurt like a bitch but the stinging sensation did good in clearing away the fog from his buzz. Indulgence may be his middle name but there was a time and place for everything and he needed a clear mind to gather his thoughts together.

Shirou Emiya had just stepped foot in Vale.

This changed everything.

Qrow's hand shot to his scroll. Ozpin had to know about this. His finger hovered over Ozpin's contact number, thinking of the number of ways that he could pass on the information without tipping off their enemies.

However, just as he had settled on the message, a noise rang from across the hall: Ruby's room.

Months of time spent deep undercover forced his mind to run dozens of potential scenarios in his head. There were scores of people who would wish to stumble upon his home. None of them were good.

His right had laid ready to spring Harbinger into action at a moment's notice while his other gently opened the door to insure not even a creak would sound.

What he found inside was thankfully not an assassin but his younger niece Ruby who was definitely not asleep. This in itself would not be a strange occurrence. Ruby was a young teenage and would often get swept up surfing the web late at night like teenagers do but this time was different. Because not only was she not only not in bed but fully clothed as well and had just snuck in from the window if her struggle with her beloved cape getting stuck on a branch outside was anything to go by.

Qrow would have almost been proud had she not been so focused on her botched attempt at stealth that she hadn't even noticed him standing in her doorway to begin with.

As a triumphant sigh released from Ruby's lips for finally breaking herself free, Qrow had finally decided to make himself known with an audible clearing of his throat.

The girl's spine immediately went ramrod straight. "Dad, you're supposed to still be away on a mission."

"And he still is. Try again Pipsqueak."

Ruby whip around so fast that she should have given herself whiplash upon hearing that distinctive gravely voice. "Gah! Wah-? Uncle Qrow?! You-You're home?!"

"Sup, kiddo. Mind spilling the detail?"

"Ah, uh…um…what? Well, you see…" Ruby replied intelligently, her feeling of horror for just getting caught and her excitement for her favorite (and only) Uncle's unexpected appearance mixing about as well as cookies do in a salad. Which is not at all.

Qrow, having grown accustomed to his niece's quirks wisely chose to cease the trademark Ruby Ramble before it began. "Take a second to warm up the engines there. You're not in trouble."

"…Oh…I'm not?"

Qrow didn't bother answering. Besides, he had no right getting on his niece's case for potentially doing the rebellious teenage equivalent of dipping your toe in the water when had done much worse at half her age.

Instantly, Ruby's posture shifted from one laden with anxiety to brimming with confidence. She flicked her nose, crossing her arms as if she were doing a pale impersonation of him. "Oh, nothing much."

Qrow's eye rolled at the girl's blatant attempts at trying to play it cool. "Really now? Are you sure nothing happened?" He said, deciding to indulge her just this once.

Her chest swelled a little bit higher. "It's nothing big really."

"There must have been something."

"Well~, there might have been one-er two things that might have stood out tonight." She corrected herself without loosing a stride in her bravado.

"Do tell." He said hamming up his interest.

"…You know, just stopped a dust robbery and…impressedtheHeadmasterofBeaconAcademyintolettingmejoinearly." She finally blurted out, nearly squealing out the last part.

"Ozpin…invited you into Beacon?" Qrow pieced together.

"Yeah! By a full two years! I'll be taking the Bullhead to Beacon with Yang in a week! You know, at first when they arrested me, I thought I was in trouble but then they brought me cookies and, in my mind, I was like "There's no way someone bad would give me cookies" then he asked me…"

And this was his cue to tune out his niece's ramblings. She was bouncing so much with excitement that it looked like she was going to burst. A gentle smile crossed his rough visage, the way she was beaming so brightly reminded him of Summer…

…Like Summer…

…Summer…

…Just like Summer…

A hand found its way to the crown of Ruby's head to ruffle her hair affectionately, bringing her recollection of the night to a halt. "Good job kiddo."

"Now I can get started on being a Huntress for real!" She swooned.

"Y-Yeah." His smile taking a somewhat of a broken quality to it. "A Huntress…"

"_Ozpin just what were you thinking?"_

Things were unfolding too fast. He had hoped he would have been able to spare her from reality for a few more year but that wish had just been thrown out the window.

She was just a kid. Just because she had silver eyes didn't mean that you had to fast track her life into a world of hardship. He had forsaken the ways of his clan to get away from such ideas not encourage them.

That was excluding Shirou Emiya making his way into the mix.

"Ow, Uncle Qrow you're crushing my head!" Ruby cried out.

"Oops, my bad." Qrow uttered unapologetically, releasing what had become a death grip on his niece's skull.

"Geez, what's wrong with you?" She whined as she tried (and failed) to send a barrage of weak haymakers his way.

Qrow chuckled at her antics but internally he was a storm of activity.

He had already failed her mother. There was no way he was going to fail her.

Once again, his thoughts drifted to the one-armed enigma. His mind recalling every instance where two had crossed paths as well as the ones he had heard only whispers about.

Of all the tragedies that followed wherever he went.

Of the graves that had been dug in his wake.

Of the villages that had fallen shortly after his departure.

A virtual angel of death.

Shirou Emiya: the only man in Remnant who rivaled him in sowing misfortune.

XxXxX

**Author's Notes: I've always like Cinder design wise but I the show hasn't really been doing her justice lately. Part of my inspiration for this is to flush out her character as well and what motivates her to do what she does. **

**Also, for those who are more curious about what Shirou looks like imagine the personification of Shirou's ideals from Heavens Feel Part II only with sprinkles of red in his hair.**

**Anyways I hope you guys liked it. Please let me know if there's anything you think I could improve.**

**See you all later. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fate or RWBY.

**Author's Notes: Well this story has certainly been received a lot better than expected. I guess all that time spent staring off into space and scrambling to jot down notes on my phone has really paid off. I've always been slow when it comes to writing but with the amount of positive support directed toward this story, I hope to shorten that timeframe as much as possible. Obviously though, due to the unpredictable nature of my job, that won't always be the case but I'll try. **

**A special thanks to the Mystery Reviewer that took the time out of their day to write the "Hope this helps" review. It was very informative. I had no idea that certain aspects of Fate that I had previously took as fact such as Incarnations, The Worlds Dismantling of Traced Objects, and Shirou's Amnesia were all products of Head Canon that had proliferated throughout the community as fact. I'll be sure to adjust accordingly in regards to aspects of the Nasuneverse that are meant to remain concrete. **

**On an unrelated note, whilst checking on my story to browse reviews I skimmed past my summary enough times to realize that it's kind of portrays the story as a Lemon-centric Fanfiction. Not sure if it crosses the line enough to warrant a restructuring of the summary. What do you guys think? **

**Anyways that enough of my ramblings. On with the story!**

XxXxX

Chapter 2: When You Assume

XxXxX

Glynda Goodwitch was on edge. To many, such a statement could be perceived as constant as the sky being blue but those with a much more personal connection with the woman would know that this was only the case _most_ of the time.

Just because Glynda saw the value in professionalism did not mean she felt the need to maintain such a disposition one-hundred percent of the time. She treasured her free time just as much as the next person. With that in mind, one could imagine how she felt when Ozpin had decided to personally shackle her with the annual Emerald Forest inspection rather than the team of third years that was traditionally used in the past. He was lucky that she made a point to respect her superiors. She could only image what sort of emotions would have bubbled to the surface otherwise.

Though, while being a big part of it, her being kept from viewing the season finale of her favorite soap opera hadn't been the only reason for her current mental state.

It was Ozpin.

Specifically, the message sent to Ozpin courtesy of their scout: Qrow.

"_Two-Sided Piece has entered the game." _

She had known Ozpin the majority of her life at this point but never had she seen him genuinely surprised by something. Before this moment, any information passed to Ozpin would be met with the customary "Hmmm" and sip from his mug. Such a reaction was to be expected from him given his origin. One did not live countless life times without coming to see the pattern in things. So, when a wizened entity as Ozpin showed genuine interest in something one had a right to feel concerned.

Whether the response was good or bad didn't matter, it was bound to be troublesome in the end regardless.

Worse, was the fact that he wouldn't so much as divulge what was so intriguing about the message. Instead choosing to spew out the same cryptic jargon as always before flipping through the various video feeds he had strewn about the kingdom. You would think that as the second in command to their little brotherhood he would be more inclined to confide with her but apparently maintaining his sense of mystery was just something he could not part with to save his life.

The one solace in all this being the rationalization that her presence tonight served as some kind of higher purpose beyond just grunt work. Perhaps as a form of deterrent against potential sabotage attempts from the forces that had revealed themselves recently. With how uncertain times were becoming these days, a blow to the future of the kingdom was the last thing they needed.

It was with this thought in mind while screening the operability of one of the forest's many cameras that she heard it. Footsteps: too heavy to match any local wildlife in the area. This only being made more concerning when taking into consideration of the restricted nature of this land. With all other suspects out of the way, only one possibility remained in her eyes.

Purple light stirred her semblance to come alive, signaling for the forest to animate along with it. Shards of wood and stone fluttered about the sky like a murder of birds, sharpening in mid-air to a point. Then, with a casual flick of her riding crop, they flew; intent on shredding apart the source of the disturbance to bits.

It may have been overkill but she had witnessed far too many fully fledged Huntsmen made low by singular Grimm in supposedly "safe" locations to take the chance. That being said, this compulsion was only really a sound strategy when deep within the territory between kingdoms, where the chances of stumbling upon another human being were slim to none.

"Gah! What in the world!?"

Clearly, the Emerald Forest did not fall under the above mentioned regions.

Fearing the worst, Glynda timed her semblance with the apex of her leap to propel herself forward in the direction of the cry.

What she came upon was a man wielding a sword as long as he was tall in a defensive stance, the flat of the blade held downward and at an angle to redirect as much kinetic energy as possible away from his person. The side that was missing an arm was directed away from his-…

MISSING AN ARM!?

Sirens rang out within her skull. The first aid kit she kept on her person in case of emergencies ready and rearing to go. Toned legs propelling her in the man's direction in a vain attempt to stifle as much irreparable damage as possible.

It was only thanks to the man realizing what the scene must have looked like that they were spared from any potential confusion.

"Wait, wait, wait!" He repeated, lifting his hand off the weapon in a stopping motion.

Time appeared to freeze in place with how sudden she had halted her momentum, an outstretched length of bandages ceasing dangerously close to his eye.

"I'm okay, really." Fragments of wood and rock still clung to his body but a good self-induced palm strike to his torso did wonders in releasing the tension in his sweater, allowing the shards to come loose from his form. Stray nicks and tears in his clothing being the only sign he had been attacked at all.

Half rimmed spectacles reflected the glow of moonlight back at him critically. Seeing that she would need more tangible proof, he lifted his shirt to reveal only minor bruising decorating his well sculpted physique. "The arm injury had happened a long time ago. We're lucky I had already been under the effects of my Reinforcement or else I may have actually been hurt."

Satisfied, she gave a curt nod to signal that she had seen enough.

Glynda smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress as if to iron out the recent kinks in her behavior, straightening her glasses and clearing her throat before finding herself in the right state of mind to reply back. "A form of damage mitigation I presume."

"Close, but more along the lines of an improvement of all aspects of an object rather just the durability." He corrected.

"I see, so in the case of a weapon it wouldn't just make the metal harder to break but the edge sharper as well." She concluded intellectually, her curiosity winning out over her desires to persecute a potential trespasser.

"Exactly." He confirmed with a smile, pleasantly surprised by her deductive capabilities when provided with such sparse information.

"Though, from the phrasing of your words, this ability of yours would appear to only be temporary. For all intents and purposes, it would appear more beneficial to rely on your Aura for protection and only draw upon this _"Reinforcement"_," She said sounding the word upon her tongue, "when in times of need or to augment existing abilities further."

"A shield to deflect harm like that would be nice." He sighed longingly. "Reinforcement allows me to withstand much more damage than normal but it does nothing to bleed off the pain."

"Such a thing only proves my point." She punctuated with a correction of her glasses.

"I would if I could."

"You speak in the past tense. You've already attempted to unlock your Aura."

"I was really hoping that things would be different this time around but I suppose lady luck just can't give me a break."

"Preposterous, an Aura is a manifestation of one's soul. It is it impossible for a human being not to have one; let alone being able to fuel one's semblance without its activation." Glynda stated as if reciting the information from a textbook. It was shocking how quickly she had fallen toward her instructor persona despite having only met the man just moments before.

"And yet here I am." He said, appearing not at all concerned that he was lacking something that every other person had the capacity to possess. "My soul is just different I guess." He said while hefting the greatsword upon his shoulder before settling into a stance modified to be used with one hand rather than the intended two. The added weight of the weapon to a human form making it the prime suspect for the heavy footfall from earlier.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her brow still furrowed at the implications to his unique physiology.

"Emiya."

"Excuse me?"

"Emiya. Shirou Emiya, that's my name."

Realization dawned upon her. She couldn't believe that she been so uncouth as to have forgotten the first rule of etiquette. Though, to be fair, the impeding horror of dismembering an innocent man tends to take priority in these circumstances.

"Glynda Goodwitch: Professor and Deputy Headmaster of Beacon Academy." She announced with a hand over her heart.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Professor Goodwitch." Shirou replied, feeling somewhat lacking by comparison in regards to his own introduction.

"The pleasure is mine." Glynda said, a light smile gracing her that slowly eased into a displeased grimace once his attention had slipped away from her.

While she was glad that tonight's confusion had resolved itself peaceful the fact remained that she had just attacked a man in cold blood. Had he been anyone else she very well might have killed them.

A well-trained eye followed Shirou as he went about swinging the greatsword with the ease of a more conventional blade, no doubt using Reinforcement to compensate for the unwieldy nature of the weapon. Years of experience as Beacon's Head Combat Instructor approved of his form. His swings were strong and precise, speaking of countless hours of repetition; the fact that he doing all this with a single appendage as well only served to elevate her opinion of him.

A touch of shame welled within her chest.

She owed him.

A strained expression made its way to her face as she scanned the clearing, pondering a means to properly repay the man. He was obviously a warrior of some kind. The greatsword in his hand as well as the various other implements of war scattered about the clearing could attest to that.

A dagger, a spear, a longsword, a katana, a scimitar, a halberd…

"Do you plan on using all of these weapons?" Glynda finally voiced.

"Eventually." Shirou answered, finishing the final set of his form before setting the giant blade down into the soft earth to move on to another weapon.

Something clicked within her. A means of redemption had just offered itself. "Do you require any assistance? I could provide some guidance if you wish."

"If it's not too much trouble…"

"Not at all, I was the one who had interrupted you in the first place. Assisting in your training is the least I could do to make up for it." She explained, scrutinizing the new falchion along with the rest of the weaponry that had miraculously made their way into the forest. "First off, I would advise against branching out too drastically. While a backup weapon is always a good option to have, it is often far more efficient for a Huntsman to have a singular weapon in mind rather than splitting one's focus between several."

Shirou gave a sheepish grin at how seriously she was taking this training from the get go. Then again, what was he to expect from some who had introduced themselves as "Professor".

"I agree, the first person to teach me swordsmanship would utterly destroy me in a serious fight even if I had brought a hundred swords to face her."

"In reality, such a situation that would provide you with access to so many weapons is simply improbable." A smirk made its way to his lips as if he had been subject to a joke that she was not privy to. "Regardless, the fact she would be able to best someone like you in such a scenario speaks wonders of her talent. She must be quiet the Huntress."

From what little she had seen, his skills with a blade already rivaled most students at her school. Such a claim wasn't one to scoff at considering some of the more talented one's could already beat lesser Huntsmen in one-on-one combat.

"She was the greatest swordswoman that I had even met. Though you're wrong about one thing."

"And what's that?"

"She wasn't a Huntress."

Her brow reared back in surprise.

"And neither am I."

"My apologies. That was insensitive of me. Where have you served then if you don't mind me asking? As an Atlas Specialist by chance?" The lighter hair pigmentation was more common in the snowy reaches of Mantle, that coupled with his professional demeanor made him the perfect candidate for one of James' men…despite how much she wished to deny it.

"Uh, not exactly." A specialist he may be but not the kind that she was familiar with.

"A Mercenary then?" The Mercenary Guilds of Vacuo were known for grooming skilled warriors as much as they were for their scars. The like of which were treated more as badges of honor in those lands. It symbolized that you had what it takes to survive in such a hostile environment. She had never met one so well-mannered though.

"Not even close. Picture something more…domestic."

"Domestic?"

XxXxX

It was during this same night in a storage yard where the citizens of Vale send their items to die that a self-proclaimed Master Thief was subject to some unfortunate news.

Across from him stood a girl of short stature baring a color scheme with a taste for browns, pinks and whites. The girl in questioned seemed a touch worse for wear with dirt and grime marring her attire and a gash near her hairline that was just now beginning to ebb the flow of blood thanks to the effects of her Aura.

"What do you mean "You messed up"? I sent you with those useless sacks of flesh so that they wouldn't mess up." Roman hissed, his normally flamboyant tone laid low to ensure that this conversation didn't garner the attention of the warehouse's more unsavory inhabitants.

The ice-cream inspired girl leaned heavily on her parasol, typing up a response on her scroll. Labored breaths slowing down the process to a crawl.

"Someone was waiting for you? Were you able to get a look at them?" Anyone who could lay out someone like Neo needed to be kept in check or else this entire operation of theirs could go up in smoke faster than Fire Dust in a room full of wood shavings.

Neo held up a finger, perking up as if ready to jot down a reply but stopped before her fingers could reach the keypad of her scroll; a perplexed look crossing her face, as if the information was just within arm's reach but refused to stay in her grasp. Her finger sank down back to her side before shaking her head.

"That's just~ great." A complete unknown. At least with the kid in the hood and the Huntress from their first operation they had gotten a clear read on their appearances and abilities, they could prepare for those two. That wasn't the case this time around

And he'd thought stage one of their Boss' plan was going to be easy not five minutes ago.

"Do you at least have an idea of how they could have caught on to us?"

Her response was much smoother this time around.

"You don't say." A thoughtful look made its way to Roman's perfect (in his eyes) face. "I mean he didn't seem happy when we told him that we had started working with Adam Taurus but I wasn't expecting anything like this. Especially not this fast."

The next response came back even more swift, clearly Neo wasn't pleased about someone playing with her for once.

"You're right. He's the only one outside of this building that has even an inkling about our movements. That doesn't tell us why though?"

She flashed her screen in his direction with gritted teeth.

"Yes, it matters. Because if it is him and we can have an idea of what he'll do next then we'll have the best way to cut him out of the picture without anyone being the wiser,"

Neo motioned her thumb to cross over her neck, her reply promptly at the ready.

"Now that's just graphic even for you. Plus, it wouldn't be a good idea to smoke him out just yet."

She stomped her foot like a child who had just been denied her favorite treat.

"Look I know you're eager to get back at him for what happened to you but if we go at this blind, we could end up opening an even bigger can of worms than what we already have now. Best to wait it out then go for the kill once we have all the pieces in order."

She huffed, crossing her arms but seeing the logic in his reasoning. She didn't like it but Roman had never steered her wrong before. She would do what he said…for now.

"Running into some trouble Roman." He cursed under his breath, just who he didn't want showing up right now.

"Now that's just rude." Cinder drolled. He struggled to swallow the saliva in his throat; he could already feel the temperature in the room climbing.

"Oh no, that wasn't for you! It was for- "A single mascara wearing eye swiveled within the room, landing on his companion's disheveled appearance. "It was for poor Neo here."

Neo pointed to herself in confusion.

Roman mouthed for her to "just go with it". "Some of the help must have been short a few crayons in the box; mixed a load of Fire Dust and Lightning Dust together and blew their ride with her in it to kingdom come."

Cinder shot a look towards Neo who proceeded to nod her head perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Not wanting to give her time to develop any suspicions Roman kept the words flowing. "The whole shipment was totaled. The other four jobs this week went down pretty smoothly though. One guy hadn't even known he was being robbed before the boys made it out of there."

"We'll have to cut off support from wherever that last group of men came from. Ignorance will not be tolerated."

"You're telling me." Good, it looked like she had taken the bait. He'd have to build up his relationship with Silver's gang again mind you for the rumored poor service but that was a small price to pay for not being immolated on the spot. "I can't wait for the animals to show up because I'll tell you: I am tired of getting all these guys up to speed. Everyone wants their own cut of the pie. Talking down some of the bigger names that have lent us their people hasn't been easy."

Sprinkling in nuggets of truth always did serve to make the lie more believable. Keeping track of all the different gang bosses' standards had been exhausting, not to mention all the petty rivalries that changed just as quickly as the weather. One day Group A and B would be as cool as a cucumber then the next thing he knew the only thing stopping them from shooting each other was to slap them with fists full of Lien.

He used to advocate against uniformity but after the recent weeks not so much.

"Interesting."

"Not really. The underground here is pretty defined, simple. Back in Mistral everything is so mottled together that you wouldn't know what's what. It's like a big mess of gray in there. In fact, there was this one time-"

"Not. **That**." The heat in room spiked sharply at each word only to descent just as quickly as it had come. Neo's finger hovered over the trigger sheathing the blade in her parasol.

"_Okay, Mistral is a soft spot for the Boss. Good to know."_ Roman logged away for later.He gave a subtle nod to Neo to stand down. As she was, she would only hurt herself anymore if she got involved. He was confident. Cinder wouldn't off someone as valuable as him so soon.

"I was talking about the dust. What was the other type of dust in the shipment besides Fire?"

"Lighting?" He answered thoughtlessly.

"Strange…" Cinder stated, her words coming off as innocent but all those present knew that was far from the truth.

"Not really."

"…Is that so?" Her question bringing causing him to wonder himself despite knowing what he had said himself.

"Yes."

"Because I recall that targeted shipment only containing _Fire_ Dust." She punctuated with a snap of her finger, flame igniting upon her finger tips to slither within her open palm.

Roman's skin paled. He had been so focused on the fabrication that he had forgotten to take into consideration of the hard facts.

"Oh really, was it that shipment? My mistake, I must have gotten the cargo mixed up in my brain. You know, these things can get kind of confusing with all the jobs we have going around and all." He spoke honestly, hoping his tone of voice would prevent her from digging any deeper. Once there was a tear in your logic it was only a matter of time before the rest of the lie would unravel at the seams.

She turns her back to the two, preventing them from seeing her face to garner any intrinsic meaning behind her following words. "See to it that this is the last mistake you make." Cinder says before gliding out of the room, not even bothering to question how the accident had happened despite there no longer being two opposing forces to cause such a reaction.

Neo's smirk tore a chunk from his ego, miming the crack of a whip and causing the proverbial house of cards he had been balancing to fall.

"Shut up, Neo."

A silent laughter being the thanks he had earned for saving their asses.

XxXxX

Ruby Rose was dying.

Well technically everyone was always dying but that was beside the point. Currently, she was dying even faster.

She couldn't breathe. Her chest hurt. Darkness encompassed her on all sides yet she could still feel the eyes following her every move. The distain of creatures beyond her control ready to sink their teeth into her; to rip and tear her to shreds until it was done.

She had always had big dreams, simple as they were. Less of an aspiration for the unattainable and more of an inevitability. To fight for those who couldn't help themselves. A Hero of Justice: a guardian to a world where everyone could be happy.

Oh, how tragic it was for her destiny to be brought to an end after only fifteen short, meaningless years.

This world of theirs truly was a cruel place.

"Oh~ I can't believe my baby sister is coming to Beacon with me! This is the Best! Day! Ever!"

She could already feel their mocking grins. Why even give us the power to struggle only for it all to eventually come to an end?

"Pleash stahp~."

Ruby Rose was dying: Socially Dying.

"But I'm so proud of you~" For what felt like the first time in a millennium she had seen light, finally released from the clutches of those…_things…_

Ruby Rose shot a glare at the pure evil hanging from her sister's chest. "Really Yang, it was nothing."

"Nothing? It was incredible! Everyone's at Beacon is going to think you're the Bee's knees."

She was exaggerating. Outside of knocking around a few nameless grunts that couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag Ruby hadn't really done all that much. If anything, she had only been a hinderance during that fight. Had she not been there she was certain that the Huntress would have brought the criminals to justice.

"I don't want to be the Bee's knees." Who even said that these days? Was this one of those trendy phases that her sister always kept from her from because it was funnier to see her fail via trail by fire as opposed to how sad it was watching her attempt to put those same phrases into practice? "I don't want to be any kind of knees! I just want to be a normal girl with normal knees."

"What's with you? Aren't you excited?"

"Of course I'm excited! I just-…I got moved ahead two years…I don't want people to think I'm special or anything." It was already difficult for her to keep up with the flow of things normally, let alone as some kind of prodigy.

"But you are special." Yang reassured; she had always claimed so but it had never been something she had wanted.

"_**The robbery was led by nefarious criminal Roman Torchwick, who continues to evade authorities." **_

The world, on the other hand, apparently had something different in mind, as if to remind her that she was some kind of person to be held above others. Sadly, Fate did not care for one's feelings and the news feed continued to agonizingly recount the events that had taken place. In her eyes, the roles had always been reversed. A Hero served the people. She didn't need all this to make others think she was better than them.

The only exception to the rule in humility was her Uncle Qrow. Growing up in a home with one parent gone and another twice heart broken had not been an easy thing. Her Uncle had stepped in as something of a second father to her. Not the best one by any means but he had been there nonetheless, flaws and all. Apparently, he had been close to her mother as well. He must have been hurting just as much as Dad but he pushed through for her. It was part of the reason she had been so lenient with his alcoholism despite how much she hated it.

She wanted to make him proud.

But for how much her Uncle had tried to be there for her, he never was the soft type. Both him and her Dad had lacked something intrinsic to a growing child's health. A something that someone else had filled the void at their expense despite she herself being a child as well.

Her sister Yang looked on with glee as the people of Vale acknowledged the girl who, she herself would not.

A hard pill to swallow formed in her throat at she stared at those eyes, full of admiration.

"…Yang."

"What's up sis?" Yang turned away from the monitor to beam down at her little sister.

"Are you okay?" For a second, the touch of gold that had sworn to never be far behind flickered for just a moment.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled back. But it wasn't the same. That spark that had kept her safe and warm all those dark nights after her mother's passing was absent.

"Well, it just that-…ever since Uncle Qrow brought you back home you've been a lot more…jumpy."

"Jumpy? What makes you say that?" She questioned as the news feed cut out to reveal a blank white background, the blond Huntress from the dust robbery rushing into place with dark circles around her eyes, appearing to have only woken up just minutes prior.

"That morning you woke up screaming." Yang's posture visibly stiffened, the only notable reaction that she had garnered from her as of late. "And whenever you see a-."

Just then a blond boy in a hoodie and white armor stumble across the monitor looking even more haggard than the woman briefing the would-be students themselves. However, what hadn't stood out to them wasn't the deathly motion sickness and the notable vomit that teetered on bursting from his fingertips but the simple longsword swinging from his hip.

Ruby's look of disgust quickly shifted to concern when she notes her sister's lack of reaction at the sight. There was no witty quip, no horrible pun to break the tension; only the sound of breath entering lungs at a frantic rate.

She turned to her sister's rigid form. Lavender had transitioned to an angry blood red that lacked the usual ferocity customary with the activation of her semblance. Ruby's previous attempts at maintaining normalcy were crumbling as the unshakeable figure that stepped in for their departed mother was ripped away to reveal the frightened girl underneath.

"…Yang?"

She received no answer.

There were only swords.

XxXxX

The interior of the Bullhead disintegrated into dust; unveiling a chaotic storm of ambers and purples blending together haphazardly and without thought. Gears, larger what was feasibly possible hung in space oxidized with disrepair.

Her body felt frozen to the touch yet at the same time scorched to an angry red.

Hot and Cold.

Sleet and Brimstone.

Fire and Ice.

Two forces battling cyclically without end.

Then there were the swords. All shapes and sizes, large and small, mundane and surreal buried into the frozen waste just as deeply as they were plunged into the depths of burning sands. A calming solidarity amongst the eye of the storm.

Swords.

They rose into the air just like the titanic monstrosities littering the sky.

A dozen swords.

They rotated as if locking on to target.

A hundred swords.

Steel reflected back at her with a somber resolve.

A thousand swords.

Then they flew, faster than their shape and weight should have rightfully been capable of.

A hundred-thousand swords.

Seeking the only thing in the world that wasn't themselves.

Unlimited Swords.

Their numbers so vast that they began to blot out the light from the writhing forces that called themselves sky.

Unlimited Blades.

Then she ceased to know anything.

XxXxX

"YANG!" Lavender blinked back into existence.

Ruby's cry roused Yang from of her stupor violently. Air filtered into her lips like water in a desert. The turbine in her chest overclocking past its limits to meet demands.

Where the thought of embracing her sister in public had horrified Ruby before, the girl clung to her as if her arms were the only thing anchoring her to reality. There were people staring now; really staring, not just the anxiety ridden illusions that plagued one's psyche. And for once in her life, Ruby couldn't care less.

Yang returned the embrace. Silver eyes met her lavender, fraught with worry. She rubbed her sister's back lovingly. This moment was a rare reminder that Ruby, no matter how awe inspiring she was, was still just a kid; a kid who had just been thrust into a world where she was very much in over her head.

"Shhhhh, It's okay. I'm okay."

"No, you're not."

The Bullhead finally came to a stop and the scene's spectators steadily trickled out of the aircraft.

"Looks like we're here."

"…Yang…" Ruby eked out, a million things she wished to say passing by but none ever making their way to her lips.

"Come on, let's go. Wouldn't want you being late for your big day." Yang reassured, holding her hand out to encourage her sister forward. A smile graced her like the smell of a rose on a summer's day. It was a small, fragile thing but it was still very much a real one and helped to take away some of the girl's fears.

This was the day Ruby had been waiting for her whole life: The first steps of her legend.

As the older sister of the two, it wouldn't do for her to ruin it.

XxXxX

"_**In other news, disaster befell early morning in Evergreen Parkway when a delivery truck on a routine trip found itself spontaneously up in flames. We have Mark Hues currently on the scene today. Mark what can you tell us about this tragedy?"**_

"_**Well Tom, from what I've been told there appears to have been a malfunction in the engine causing the hood of the vehicle to catch fire. If we follow the skid marks here, we can see where the driver lost control of the vehicle, swerving off the road and colliding into what used to be a local bakery. By then the flames had already reached the truck's shipment of Fire Dust, igniting the payload and spreading the flames into the building."**_

"_**That sure is something Mark, did anyone get hurt in the accident?" **_

"_**Yes, I'm getting reports that luckily the driver and his two associates were rescued by an unnamed passerby who dove into the flames and pulled the three men out before it was too late. The three are currently being seen at the Vale Hospital for smoke inhalation and minor burns but are otherwise completely unharmed."**_

"_**Thanks Mark. Next: Cuddly Friend or Criminal Master Mind? After this commercial break we go over all the signs that your cat may be plotting to kill you. My name is Tom White and we will be right back after this."**_

Cinder Fall surveyed the scene in person from the balcony of a nearby café. The News Reporter's artificial grin falling hard the second the camera's stopped rolling, dragging himself back into the van to move on to the next location.

She always found it such a fascinating thing, how the very establishment that had been developed in order to distribute the truth was so quick to regurgitate whatever was said by the ones with the deepest pockets.

Even from this distance, she could tell that the engine failure claim was completely fabricated. The metal of the hood of the trunk was punctured from the outside; the wound's size being much too large for a bullet. A spear or maybe even a sword perhaps? Honestly, the classification hardly mattered nowadays with how often it was for the current generation of Huntsmen to incorporate hybridized functions within their weaponry. Regardless, a blade of notable size would be a prime suspect for the gouge marks that littered the area. No doubt being a byproduct of a battle of some kind rather than the accident story that was officially redistributed to the public.

The signs were obvious to even the untrained eye, let alone a detective. So why bother censoring their findings in the first place?

To keep the public happy and ignorant of any danger?

Or to save face?

Her money was on the latter. Only a few probing steps in her plan and already the public was beginning to whisper of the Law Enforcement's ineptitude. Seeds of doubt were already being sown. She just needed to give them more time to take root before they would be ready to flower.

However, one question was still remained: Who had interfered with her plans?

"Mr. Opal are you in the kitchen?"

A local Huntsman was obviously at the top of her list of potential candidates. Their super human abilities and combat prowess alone would have been more than a match for the generally underwhelming specifications of her current work force. That, however, was the first reason why they had been ruled out. Outside of the few Huntsmen who strayed from the beaten path, the so called "Protectors of Humanity" were a just few and would no doubt have remained on scene in order to brief the responders.

"Oh no reason. I just thought I smelled something burning is all."

A quick activation of a program on her tablet courtesy of Arthur Watts (much to her displeasure) consolidated an archive of the most commonly discussed topic in the immediate area. After sifting through the usual pointless jargon that plagued social media Cinder was able to gather a general consensus of what had happened.

"It's just that you were the only one after me to have used it and I know I didn't burn anything."

Outside of the initial crash and the fire that had consumed the bakery not long after, there wasn't much to go on. Apparently, it had all ended too fast for anyone to have seen anything concrete.

"No, I am not implying that you are a bad cook. I was just concerned for the customers' safety."

That was…worrisome to say the least. She could see why Roman felt such a need to blatantly lie to her face.

The girl had proven to be quite capable in close quarters, for someone to have defeated her; saved the men that had been paid to highjacked the delivery truck; and then clear the area fast enough to not be seen by the general public was definitely something to be concerned about.

"Please understand-. What? No, you're not a danger to the customers."

She brought her steaming cup of truth to her lips, stopping for a moment to allow the bitterness of her situation to make its way down her throat. Her smooth features scrunching up into a wince for a split second before vanishing behind her usual placid air.

The soft click of porcelain touching down on the tables surface followed by a quick, "We apologize for all the noise."

Cinder contemplated reserving her full attention to herself but decided against it when she spied the slice of cake that had made its way to her table. "I didn't order this."

"No need to worry. It's on the house."

"I do hope this isn't a means to curb my opinion of this place." She hadn't even bothered to look up from her tablet to review the waiter's expression. "Leftover desserts can only go so far when the service is this bad." Her abrasive comment no doubt warding him away to allow her the freedom to continue on with her reconnaissance.

"Dearest customer, I insist that you withhold your judgment until you have tasted the dish." The waiter replied, a new edge to his tone in spite of the respectful manner of his speech.

The audacity of the man drew the attention of ember orbs from behind her sunglasses. The man's constant presence a challenge for her to dare step away from the premises without at least having a bite.

"…Very well. What it is exactly?" She said, palming the fork on the side of the tray.

"A Milk Cake smothered in caramelized milk and dolloped with a light meringue on top and coated in pomegranate seeds and pistachios for a balancing crunch. Please enjoy." He explained, still lingering by the table much to her chagrin.

Her grip on her fork went limp at the explanation. "That seems rather…extravagant for a place like this."

"I find experimenting with various ingredients to be relaxing."

"Experiment you say? Is that all I am to you? A test-subject? Is that how you handle a paying customer?"

The sound of molars grinding was now audible in the air; as if implying that he would serve her anything lacking was an affront to his very existence. "I had my fellow employees taste test it beforehand as a trial run. I can guarantee that this dish will be to your liking."

"A bold claim."

"Such things only hold true when they are claims to begin with." He said, his confidence earning a playful smirk from her.

Having grown tired of their verbal spar Cinder decided to humor the waiter and took a bite of the cake.

Her chews were slow and methodical, giving her mouth ample time to process the flavors and textures harmonizing together. She did not say another word nor did she move a muscle. If it wasn't for the minute rise and fall of her chest one could even mistake her for being dead.

Such a response did not muster even a smidgen of anxiety from the waiter. It was almost as if he had come to expect it.

Moments later, the fork within her hand moved against her stonelike expression, cutting off another piece of the dessert…and another…and another…and another…until, before long, the utensil was scraping against the bottom of the milk saucer where the cake had been.

Blinking out of her trance, Cinder shot up to look at the familiar likeness of the one-armed man from several nights ago grinning back at her with an obnoxious level of smugness.

"Would you like another plate Miss?"

She did not answer, for fear of her stomach betraying her will. Despite this, she could not help herself from picking at the remaining pieces of pomegranate and pistachio drifting about the dish; her actions speaking louder than words.

Wordlessly, he walked off to scrounge up another one of the delectable slices of heaven that she had just tasted. It was in this window of time that Cinder realized something startling: just what were the chances of her running into the same person more than once in a place a vast as Vale? One in a hundred? A thousand? Whatever it was, the odds were not likely, doubly so for her when taking into account her lack of public exposure after the botched preliminary heist.

She tipped the sunhat she had chosen to obscure her appearance downward subconsciously. Having gone so far as to have opted out of her usual reds and blacks for a white sleeveless blouse and a cream-colored skirt to dissuade any potential hooded children or blonde professors from recognizing her during today's outing.

Evidently, she was being paranoid. The windshield of the Bullhead they had used had been tinted, combined with the darkness of the night and the chances that he had had caught a glimpse of her were virtually nonexistent. The lack of recognition on his expression when she looking up at him only proved that. Nevertheless, she couldn't stop the thought from lingering inside her. It all seemed too much a coincidence to be just that.

When he returned within view, she made an effort to expel the nerves from her system to act as natural as possible. If he truly didn't recognize her then there was no point in treading the line as if he had; doing so would only serve to cement her image in the mind of someone that could be used against her later. She wasn't even supposed to be exist in Vale yet to begin with. The fewer people that could attribute her appearance to the student persona she was to use in the coming months the better.

"Your milk cake Miss."

She silently thanked him, eager to take another bite. "I find it hard to believe that something like this would be free."

"It isn't an official menu item just yet so it's not as if I could charge for it." He shrugged. "For this one, I had replaced the pomegranate and pistachios with a touch of cinnamon and hazelnut. It should blend together more smoothly with the coffee you had been nurse for so long."

The observation caused a poignant pause to break Cinder's movements, having found herself doing just as he had suggested in using the sweetness of the dessert to make the bitterness of her drink more palatable.

"No need to be embarrassed." He waved off, mistaking her shock at his level of observation for being caught red handed. "A friend of mine was the same way. She never had a taste for bitter drinks but was far too proud to admit that she needed some help getting it down."

"How childish." She said as if to discredit the fact that she had just been doing the exact same thing.

"Maybe but I wouldn't exactly call the sulking expression you had been making behind Mr. Xiong's club the peak of maturity." He dropped nonchalantly, not even bothering to take notice of the way the cake on Cinder's fork had slipped off the utensil and on to her dress. "Apologies but I have other guests to attend to. Enjoy your meal."

The metal of Cinder's fork smoldered into a sad, misshapen husk. She didn't know what she was more infuriated about the jab at her maturity, the cake that had stained her dress because of it, or the fact that he had been playing her as a fool all along with her being none the wiser.

"Excuse me," She called over to nearby waitress, "I appear to have misplaced my fork."

"Right away Miss." The waitress reappearing not long after with her request in hand. "Here you go!"

She took the utensil without thanks.

"Anything else?"

"Yes, a name. Specifically of that man over there; the handicapped one." Cinder demanded more than asked while whipping away the globs of milk and cream from her dress.

"Shirou? He's one of our new part timers. Just started her a few days ago. Right before the car crash that's been all over the news lately now that I think about it."

So, he had been in the general area where someone had interfered in her operations. A kind of informant then? It would definitely explain how someone had been tipped off to her latest operation so quickly "Does he have a last name?"

"Emiya I think. Why do you ask?"

"I was just hoping to file a complaint. He was rather rude while attending to me."

"Really? Him? But he seems so nice."

"Rarely are people as they appear to be."

Shirou Emiya: the man that had seen her with wanted criminal Roman Torchwick. Even if he was merely a humble part-timer that information alone was enough to jeopardize her whole operation.

He needed to be dealt with…swiftly.

XxXxX

Her pride as an instructor was in shambles.

Never before in all her years as an active duty Huntsman had Glynda Goodwitch ever felt more useless until the day she had agreed to tutor Shirou Emiya.

She had been wrong.

He wasn't a match for her students. He would utterly destroy them. If this was "practice" for him just were did his limits end? A Rookie Huntsman? A Professor? Her? She wasn't sure. And all this with a disability and without an Aura to lean on. It was inspiring to say the least.

She had tried to help at first. She honestly did, contributing whatever inputs she could to make his nightly training sessions more efficient. That slowly changed each time he laid his hand on a different weapon, her advice finding fewer and fewer opportunities to chime in. By the time he had reached the double digits it had become clear to her that first night that any words from her would be about as valuable as walking a surgeon through your own operation. Feasible but also woefully unnecessary.

Now, that wasn't to say he hadn't been listening. If anything, Shirou was a better student the one's she catered to at Beacon and had taken everything she had said to heart. Something that only served to add insult to injury.

No, Shirou wasn't the issue: she was. No matter how much she tried she just couldn't provide anything useful for him. Where other students would find value in a new perspective, he appeared to have already memorized every detail of it. Advice in the placement of the weapons in his hands lead to unfavorable result; addressing holes in his stance had been proven pointless as they had been intended to be there all along; oddities in his footing meticulous developed in order to overcompensate for his disability; the list went on and on.

By now their roles had reversed entirely; where he was the one educating her in the way of the blade instead. Shirou Emiya simply possessed an unmatched sympathy for weapons. While he was by no means a master in every style, he still remained a cut above the rest in most. Truly, the only limiting factor would be the sheer number of weapons he could carry on his person at a given time (the likes of which she still had no idea how he carried so many to the Emerald Forest each night).

Its just as the saying goes: _"Quantity has a quality all its own."_

Which made his supposed career path all the more unbelievable.

He had to be lying. There was no way that he could be anything other than a combatant of some kind.

"Mistral Assassin." Glynda threw out, hoping it would stick. An amused smile gently creased her companion's face.

"Wrong again." Shirou said with the shake of his head.

"Damn," She cursed, "I had reasoned that with the extensive house husbandry skills one would have a much easier time getting closer to their targets."

Shirou chuckled, finally coming to a stop near the professor for a much-needed break. It had become something of a game of theirs. Where she would bring up a certain profession that he might have developed his skillset at and he would confirm whether or not she was right.

Naturally, she had yet to get a single one.

"You wouldn't be the first person to think that."

"Are you certain you have never been paid for your skills?"

"Not the offensive ones at least." Bartender, Waiter, Repairman, Chef and Janitor to name a few, on the other hand, were all fair game.

"Inconceivable." Where would a man with such a dull work portfolio even learn how to handle a sword like that? And for what purpose did they feel the need to hone their craft to such a level? Self-defense and recreation could only go so far. Combat sense like that didn't just fall from trees.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked seeing her rise from her seat.

"A new batch of potential Huntsmen will be going through initiation tomorrow." She said dusting the dirt that had accumulated on her palms. "I'll need to put the finishing touches on my lesson plan for the semester. Though, I doubt I'll be missed much with how little I've been able to accomplish thus far." Her usual grimace deepening even further.

"Sorry about that." He said as if was his fault for her newfound feelings of inadequacy. Which it was but she refused to allow a person to feel ashamed of their own ability.

"No matter, we'll just have to cover a much broader number of subjects next time in order to see which areas you are deficient in. That way I'll be able to devise a much more fitting curriculum for you."

"Thanks for your hard work. I'm going to stay back for a little bit longer. You go on ahead." Shirou said, rolling his shoulders to relieve them any stiffness before moving once more to one of the many weapons dotting the clearing.

"Don't stay out too long." Glynda nodded, jotting down some ideas in her scroll whilst muttering to herself on her way out of the clearing.

"No promises." He said, melding with the weapon in his grasp; revitalizing the history of the blade and allowing it to take shape within him. The memories plaguing his mind drifting away, lost at sea within a spiraling ocean of warriors past.

XxXxX

It wasn't until several hours later that he had finished with his meditation.

The trudge down the mountains that encompassed The Emerald Forest was an uneventful one. Lush green and the terrors of the woods slowly bleeding into the safety of industry that humanity found comfort in.

Reaching the Kingdom's border wall, Shirou flashed the guard his ID; the man giving him a perplexed expression at the physical card before allowing him entry.

His nose wrinkled at the smell of soot in the air. An abundant commodity of the real-estate near the Kingdom's borders. Such a thing was to be expected as only those with the right income could afford the glitz of the inner city. Fortunately, Vale as a whole was one of the safer out of the four bastions of man; the slums had little to fear beyond the general disrepair that accompanied the region.

"Kiiiiitttyyyy! Kiiittty!" A young boy no older that ten called, his hand cupping above his mouth to carry his voice further.

His consciousness urged for him to simply let the matter be, that it wasn't his problem. However, his body seemed to disagree, obstinate limbs bringing him down to eye level with the boy despite his internal protests.

"What are you doing out here? It's dangerous this late at night." Stray Grimm breaching the Kingdom's walls were rare but enough negligence and bit of sleep deprivation could make anything possible.

"Kitty got lost. I've been looking all over trying to find her." The boy answered innocently.

"Do your parents know where you are?"

The mentioning of the "P" word caused the boy to freeze in his tracks. His head shacking in a no.

"They're probably worried about you. You should head along home."

"But what about Kitty?"

"Don't worry, I look for it in your place."

"Really?" His eyes glistened in wonder.

"Sure, do you need any help getting back." Shirou's question garnered a shake of the boy's head in return.

"Thanks a lot Mister. Kitty has white hair, red eyes and a little notch missing from her left ear. You can't miss her."

"Got it. I'll keep an eye out."

Shirou flashed a wave at the boy as he ran back home. It wasn't until the boy had cleared from view that frown he had been internalizing came forth. From the general cleanliness of the boy's cloths he didn't appear to be a resident of the area, meaning that he probably wondered into the slums aimlessly with the hopes of running into his cat. That left a lot of ground to cover.

"Well, not going to find it by staying around here." It's just a cat. How hard could it be to find it?

XxXxX

Shirou had desperately wished he had knocked on wood the moment the question had entered his mind.

"Very" had apparently been the correct answer. Vale's Animal Control must have been working over time because two hours come and gone and he had yet to see hide nor hair of anything even remotely furry.

His search had currently led him down one of Vale's many maze-like alley ways. Silently he prayed from it to make an appearance. He wasn't exactly looking forward to going vertical once he ran out of alleys.

"Please…I just work at the dust refinery. I've got no money!" Broke Shirou from his dread.

"We don't want your money. Just give us the key card and you can go on free."

"Why are you doing this? That dust hasn't even been processed yet. It's worthless."

"We're making the demands here old man." A much harsher voice demanded, punctuating his point with the cocking of a hammer on a firearm.

"Okay, okay! Just don't hurt me!"

"Faster! Hurry up!" Shuffling cloth peaked to manic levels.

"Here! Take it! It's yours!"

"Much obliged." Hard metal impacted bone with a solid thud.

"What's wrong with you?! He already gave us the card!"

"Yeah, but they also said that there weren't supposed to leave any witnesses."

"You guys are sick you know that."

"Oh, fuck you too pal. If you don't have the stomach for this shit then go back home to your mommy."

He had heard enough.

A tired sigh traveled through his form and out his fingertips. Blue light shimmered from his corner in the alley way. A white mantle and a short sword of utilitarian design appearing on his person where there had once been open air.

As he turned the corner three men came into view. One positioned at each entrance. The man in the center hovered over the body of the refinery worker with a gun pressed to the unconscious man's temple. The one tasked with guarding Shirou's current path still, too immersed with arguing with the center man over the morality of the situation to keep track of his surroundings.

Such a valuable opportunity would not be wasted.

By the time the three had noticed that they were not alone Shirou had already intercepted their formation. His grip reversed, the pommel of his blade digging solid metal deeply into the center man's gut. The breath in the man's lungs rushed out forcefully, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth from biting his own tongue.

Shirou's brow rose as he noted the lack of shimmering light customary with the activation of an Aura before following his opening strike with a swift front kick, sending the criminal clear through the air into the unsuspecting back of the third.

The second man's eyes widened in shock. From his perspective it must have looked like his partner had just been replaced with a stranger before his eyes.

He wrestled with his surprise to bring his pistol to the ready but he was far too slow. The dulled edge of the short sword already rising up in an arc to knock the muzzle of the weapon off target well ahead of his finger placing itself into the trigger guard, bullets discharging harmlessly into solid brick wall.

Using the upward momentum of his initial slash, Shirou brought the blade back downward in a seamless motion. The edge just barely grazing past the man's body to feel if it impacted anything else besides open air.

Contrary to popular belief, Aura is not intrinsically a solid force. In its unamplified state, it merely spares the user from harm as well as healing any damage that may manage to bypass one's Aura. The default composition of an Aura feels less like a force field and more like just more "Them" projected outwards. So, when Shirou felt his blade impact something despite having just struck open air he adjusted accordingly, reinforcing the edge of the once dulled short sword into that of a much more suitable blade.

The third slash came low, taking the ground straight from under the gangster like an axe to a tree. Whilst still exempt from Remnant's gravity, Shirou plucked him from the air; positioning the man's body toward the rain of gunfire courtesy of the alley's other occupants. As the telltale click of an expended magazine resounded the Aura of his makeshift shield finally fizzled out of existence. A quick toss into the adjacent wall being the straw that broke the camel's back that sent the man into blissful unconsciousness.

The remaining two's fumbling to scrounge up more ammunition cost them dearly, providing Shirou with plenty of time to spare in order to close the gap.

Steel cut in a wide, horizontal arc; slicing clear through the barrel of the unenhanced man's pistol. The short sword flipped in his grip, rearing back and returning in a straight motion; the fist holding the handle of the weapon impacting hard upon the man's windpipe. Hands relinquished the useless piece of metal in their grasp in favor of cradling the damaged throat. This reprieve was short lived, as the same hand that had caused him said pain hooked around to take hold of his skull; forcing his brow into a collision course with an awaiting knee. The force of the blow folding him upon the joint bonelessly.

Seeing that the last of his comrades had been dispatched the remaining man had decided to abandon his attempts at find more ammo in favor of reaching into his coat pocket to unfurl a switch blade. With a resounding battle cry he charged at the group's attacker.

Bonze passing over the pocket knife inquisitively before returning to disinterest.

Shirou returned his sword into a more traditional grip, using the blade's superior reach to keep the edge of the knife from harm's way.

Turning his body to the side, Shirou effortlessly dodged a straight thrust from the man's knife; following up the evasive maneuver with a straight thrust of his own. His did not miss, striking true at the man's bicep. A dull blue hue soaking the man's form in response.

The blade quickly returned to its wielder's center mass to block a wild slash that had been aimed at Shirou's torso. The flat of the blade held fast, not yielding a single inch within the struggle despite the thug's best efforts. Then, suddenly, the force behind the block disappeared all together forcing the man to stumble forward into open air. Shirou's sword coming around to cut at the finger holding the knife, the pain that had seeped through the Aura forcing his finger to lose their grip on his weapon.

In an act of pure tenacity, the man balled his remaining hand into a fist; launching a haymaker in Shirou direction. The swing comes high, Shirou barely needing to bend his waist in order to duck underneath the arm. Before the full motion was even accompanied, Shirou's sword lashed out at the man's roots. This pattern repeats itself three more times before his opponent finally loses his footing, falling on to his knees. The position being the perfect angle to launch a kick to the man's temple. Soul given form flaking away from the force of the blow.

Shirou cranes his head to look upward at Remnant's shattered moon longingly. He takes a deep breath; with his exhale the mantle and the sword in his grasp departing along with it. This moment, however, was short lived. A soft sobbing noise distancing him from his moment of reflection.

Calmly, he makes his way over to the back of the dumpster that the noise was coming from to find a tiny Faunus girl with messy white hair sniffling, no doubt not wanting to bring any attention to herself.

"Hey there." He said, putting a great amount of care into the volume of his voice to avoid frightening the girl.

"Are all the bad people gone?"

Pudgy fingers gave way to reveal bright red eyes laden with tears. For a moment, a lance of pain struck through his heart at her resemblance to another white-haired girl that he had known. The feeling passed, however, once he laid eyes on the fluffy cat ears peaking from her scalp…her left ear missing a notch by the…oh…

"Yeah, they're all asleep now." He said, craning his chin over to the trio of unconscious bodies.

Hearing that appeared to have calmed her a bit but she was still didn't seem to trust him just yet. Using her long, white hair as a curtain to hide behind.

"You wouldn't happen to be Kitty, would you?"

"Ngh," She nodded parting her bangs to look at him more clearly. "That's what my big brother calls me."

"Well, you're in luck because your big brother sent me to find you."

Her ears perked up inquisitively, wiggling at the mention of her brother. Her breath finally stabilizing to an even level. "Really?"

He nods, holding a hand out to her. "What's your name?"

She took it, allowing him to bring her to her feet. "Shiro."

"Ha, that's funny, my name is Shirou too." He smiles at her, her mouth forming into a cute little "o" in amazement.

The older Shirou moved to release his hand from her grasp but her tiny fingers held on tightly. Having been lost for so long must have scared her more than he had thought.

As they made their way out the alley way, they passed by the unconscious bodies of the three criminals. A bashful expression developing on his face. He couldn't in his right mind just leave them there.

"Did you do this?" Little Shiro asked with a tilt of her head.

"…Yeah…" He admitted, wishing he still had his other arm to scratch at the back of his scalp.

"Ooooooo, Big Bro Shirou is strong."

"Shiro?" Man, that sounded weird calling someone by a name near identical to his own. "You wouldn't happen to have a scroll by chance?"

She shook her head. "Papa said I can't have one until I'm older."

"Figures. Well I guess we'll just have to think of something along the way."

"Ngh." She agreed.

XxXxX

Off in a faraway tower a video screen displaying the man shepherding a young girl along in the direction of the nearest police station played.

"Well, he certainly seems better than anticipated." A man in a dark green suit and circular sunglasses voiced from behind his desk. "From tonight's performance alone, he appears like he would be a valuable ally."

Lifting his neck away from the screen, he turned his attention to the office's other inhabitant. The pause in his speech was intended to garner a response but apparently, they hadn't gotten (or more likely ignored) that memo.

Peering down the neck of his flask for any stragglers was obviously much more important.

"Qrow?" His tone coming off more firmly then it had before.

"You already know my answer Oz." He slurred, already making love to his backup flask.

"Be that as it may, you still have yet to explain just why you don't see eye to eye with this man. His actions thus far have been nothing if not noble."

"Nobility…honesty…those aren't the issues here when it comes to him." Qrow hiccupped, whipping away the liquor that had dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "It's trust."

"Many would consider honesty and trust to be one in the same."

"And I think those people need a reality check. You see, it's not that you can't trust him. The problem is that he can't trust you." Qrow's words caused Ozpin's grip on his can to tighten by a degree.

"Are you certain you aren't just projecting your own feeling on to this Emiya fellow?" Ozpin's tone came off as jovial, as if to shift the attention in the room away from something else.

"Dammit Oz, I don't need a psychiatrist!" The slur in Qrow's tone sobered up immediately. Whether his own feelings of self-worth were being placed upon the topic of discussion or not wasn't what mattered here.

The outburst thinned the smile from Ozpin's face. There were very few things in this world that could work up Qrow this way; none of them were good. "Very well, continue."

"My problem with Shirou Emiya, the reason I can't rest easy with him around is because of how little confidence he has in anyone. You could be a newborn baby or the General of the Atlesian Air Fleet and the idiot would still come knocking."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Ozpin questioned, altruism and one's love for their fellow man were feelings that were fostered within today's Huntsmen. One couldn't be a keeper of peace without the willingness for self-sacrifice.

"Normally yes, but the problem with him is that he just can't take a hint; hurling himself into fights that have nothing to do with him. Almost like he's attracted to conflict like some kind a…Humanoid Grimm."

"All the more reason to coerce him to our side before she attempts to do the same."

"I thought so too once upon a time…Then I got the bright idea to visit some of the places he'd "saved". Qrow once again retreated to the comfort of his flask, not returning until its content had been completely drained.

"Qrow…what did you find?"

"That's the thing Oz. I found nothing…" Without the burn of his addiction to distract him the slouch in his posture sagged even further than it normally did, his stare going on for a thousand yards. "…Not a single soul."

Ozpin felt an aching sensation beginning to manifest at the bridge of his eye sockets. Humanity's survival already teetered by a thread as it is, he didn't need any more to add to his stress.

"Do we know if his actions were deliberate? If the outcomes were ultimately what he had intended?"

"Couldn't say. Would you still be able to go through with this plan of yours knowing what his help has amounted to?"

Qrow's question remained unanswered. The weight of the room became heavy, the air palpable enough to be cut with a knife. Ozpin's expression displaying the storm of internal conflict within him as clear as day.

In this state, several things had gone unnoticed by the headmaster such as Qrow's departure from the office, the Vale Council's request for a summons, and lastly the feed tracing the two Shiro(u)s' path toward the nearest Police Station erupting into static.

XxXxX

A single glass arrow sunk deep into the camera's circuitry, rendering the machine into little more than scrap.

High heels clicked upon the hard pavement, steady and ominous. Slender fingers reached down to pluck the forgotten access card from the body of the unconscious thug.

Clues to a new mystery dangled deliciously above a ravenous maw. Desire burning within like a raging inferno. The odor of their next meal revealing to be much more tantalizing than they ever could have imagined.

XxXxX

**Author's Note:**

**This chapter took much longer to write than I had anticipated. Hopefully the wait wasn't too long. If you guys have any questions, comments or concerns feel free to write a review or PM me. **


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I am not rich and thus don't own multimillion-dollar properties.

**Author's Notes:**

**God this chapter took way longer than expected. A large contributor to that had to do with the fact that until about two weeks ago I've been busting my ass at work; a lot of long hours and not a lot of time to really have to myself. That coupled with severe writer's block made putting together this particular chapter a nightmare.**

**To address some concerns, a lot of people have brought up the fact that the transitions between scenes have been difficult to follow. I just want to let you all know that I've been listening and while this chapter may not have achieved a solution to that problem just yet, I am actively working on a method to make the story flow in a matter that isn't so jarring. **

**Also, just to inform you all, if I don't upload a chapter beyond this one and suddenly drop off the face of the earth just assume that I had to get involved with something work related for an extended period of time. I'd love to share the details with you all but, being in the military, that information is literally classified so I'll have to apologize if this story unexpectedly goes into hiatus.**

**Now that those issues have been addressed, on with the story!**

XxXxX

Chapter 3: Reading Between the Lines

XxXxX

It had all started with a dream.

"_When I was little, I dreamed of becoming a Hero of Justice." _

Shirou's eyes snapped open to the view of a familiar scene. A memory, one of the few ones that he relished in seeing whenever he drifted off to sleep.

He could still feel the chill of that spring night; a chorus of crickets drowning out the hustle and bustle of life beyond their walls; the smell of midnight dew among the foliage of their corner of paradise.

"_What do you mean "dreamed"?" The younger version of himself developing a complicated expression, one that spoke of more than just confusion. "Did you give up?"_

By now, he had already memorized every word said within this moment in time, the tail end of his past self's words stinging each time they repeated off his lips.

"_Yes, unfortunately…" Kiritsugu's eyes shadowed behind his bangs. His yukata hanging loosely on his body, wasting away under a lifetime of regret. "Being a hero is a limited time thing. When you grow up, it's difficult to call yourself one…I wish it hadn't taken me so long to realize that…"_

A pang of sympathy rang within Shirou's heart.

"_I see. I guess you can't really help it now, then." The younger Shirou exclaimed. His voice sounding more as if it were being read off a script. _

"_Yes…it really can't." Kiritsugu agreed._

"_Yes." Shirou repeated with a nod, a resolution straightening his posture. "Since you can't. I'll become one for you."_

_A noise escaped Kiritsugu as if he had just hung on by the cusps of slumber._

"_Since your too old and can't do it anymore. I'll do it in your place". A genuine sense of conviction coming to the younger Shirou's voice for the first time that night. A single, tiny arm reaching past the shattered moon in the sky toward something greater; a promise, an ideal that even a self that had been beaten and battered by the tests of time could not still help but find beautiful. _

_A desire to become something more._

"_Just leave your dream to me." His younger self flashed the same smile that his savior had imparted to him on that fateful day, a gift that he would carry with him for a lifetime. Dim moonlight illuminating his pale locks into a pure, ethereal white; the redness in his hair contrasting sharply. A spark to reinvigorate the ashes of a dream. _

The onlooker's eye had taken a quality that matched his foster father's. At the time he had mistaken it for hope.

His current self knew better though.

"_All right…" The lines of stress etched across Kiritsugu's face melting away. A solemn acceptance. A tireless resolve finally allowed to rest. "…I feel a bit better now…"_

XxXxX

Shirou Emiya awoke to the blaring red of digital text. A familiar ring filling the room just moments later as the clock rolls over to an even "5:00".

He reaches over to silence the racket. A hiss crossed his lip as an acute pain shoots into his torso. The left side of his body burning with a heat akin to a thousand angry fire ants. Shifting under his covers to allow for his remaining limb to complete the action, Shirou mentally willed the tingling sensation to dissipate. Even after all this time the phantom pains would still creep up on him when he least expected it.

Rising from his covers, Shirou rose from his bed to gaze out at Remnant's damaged moon.

He allowed himself to a moment to recollect his thoughts under the ephemeral purple of a fading night. It had been some time since he had recalled his adopted father's face; after going so long without a reminder the finer details had become painfully fuzzy over the years. A reminder that provided as much as a smile to form on his face as it did the dull throbbing to beat in parallel with his heart.

To become a Hero of Justice.

A borrowed dream, one that was never his own yet he still upheld to the highest degree. One that he had seen as an inevitability because had he not believed he would have been able to achieve it himself he would not have dreamt it otherwise.

Would the him of today been so certain in the same scenario?

A part of him would say yes, but given the fact that he had to even ponder such a thing spoke much louder than words.

Slowing his breath, Shirou allowed the emotions bubbling within to drip out of his body like a channel being cut in a stream. They would only be a distraction in the coming moments.

His singular palm rose upward in his lap. A familiar ache crackled to life, slow to start but warming at a steadily increasing speed as the sand within his mind began to flake away.

The first step was hypnosis: to convince yourself that what you sought to achieve was possible.

Steam rode on the exhaling breaths; a product foreign to the Vale's temperate weather.

"Trace, On."

_Judging the concept of creation._

Electricity danced between his fingertips.

_Hypothesizing the base structure. _

As if on the pages of a blueprint, chaos birthed structure.

_Duplicating the composition material._

The lines slowly bled together to give image to form. Primarily comprised of an alloy using two parts steel and one part of an unnamed metal birthed from the byproducts of earth and fire dust to allow for a stronger conduit to channel the ignition of one's souls.

_Imitating the skills of its making._

It had been scrapped down and rebuild multiple times over with hands that held little place in a forge while using tools that paled in comparison to most modern practices. Despite this, its creator persisted. They were used to failure. What was one more amongst the many that encapsulated their existence.

_Sympathizing with the experience of its grow. _

After nearly three straight nights struggling to keep the fires of a makeshift forge lit it was finally completed. A sword but also a scythe attributed to the legend of The Grimm Reaper who its creator had admired as a child. Large and unwieldy to most, it was a tool build with the sole intention of carving a vicious path through the fields of humanity's greatest enemy.

_Reproducing the accumulated years._

Its initial design had not been perfect. Misfortune in the creation of the gear mechanism that allowed the weapon to shift forms would cause the weapon to often jam midway through transformation. Causing the user to develop a style that relied mostly on the sword form to compensate for the defect despite its intended design.

_Excelling every manufacturing process._

It wasn't until years later, and having to deal with countless growing pains, that a solution was discovered under the hands of a girl that the wielder had initially written off as just another useless kid blind to the realities that he had bathed in since his conception.

It was through her machinations that the dreams of a boy who had only known misfortune his whole life had finally been fulfilled as intended…with the added bonus of a shotgun courtesy of his new friend to boot.

On that day, by a girl who the boy would treasure above all others even to this day that the weapon was finally given a name. One that he would cherish despite the connections that could be made with the one aspect he hated about himself the most.

Harbinger: The Approaching Death. The one and only weapon of Qrow Branwen.

With the care of an artist inspecting a painting, Shirou passed a finger upon its smooth surface; taking in the triumphs and hardships that it had carried its wielder through during his time as a Huntsman.

At the press of a button, clockwork spurred the weapon to life as it broke down and reconstructed itself into its inspired form. A scythe, as ominous as the weapon's namesake and nearly just as tall as the tiny room of the inn he was staying at. Just as effortlessly, the weapon folded back in on itself into its sword form.

Applying pressure to the trigger sitting on the handle caused the blade to bend at a joint in the handle. A mechanism reliant on the action, loading the slug of a shotgun within the twin barrels that bordered the blade. Wordlessly, Shirou aimed the weapon in the same manner that he had seen Qrow within his inner world; throwing caution to the wind, Shirou depressed the trigger of the weapon inside the inn.

A resounding "click" being the only reward for his confidence.

He shook his head knowingly while allowing the weapon to dispel. At his core Shirou Emiya was a sword, not a gun-sword. Had the latter been the case he definitely would not have bothered firing it within a building full of innocent bystanders.

Times passed as he continued on with his morning ritual. Without missing a single day, he had refined his craft. Once in the morning and once more just before going to bed. He could be called many things but inconsistent was not one of them.

At times he pondered why he still persisted to train despite having gone back on the promise that had defined his very being. As atonement for his sins? To cling on to one of the few things that his adopted father had left him with? Or maybe just as a form of habit?

He wasn't sure.

A blue glow filled the room once more as another of man's creations was reborn at his command.

He wasn't sure of a lot of things anymore.

XxXxX

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I'm sorry Miss but he just up and left. Took his first pay check and walked right out the door." The owner of the café scrambled to put together a response in fear of angering the woman any further.

"Did he say where he was going? Any clues about where he may go next?" Cinder interrogated, unintentionally trapping the poor woman in the corner like a defenseless animal.

Her attire this time comprising of a simple gray cardigan, white tank top and ripped jeans, a much more casual yet still no less stunning ensemble (she refused to garb herself in anything less). She had worn it with the intention of putting her target at ease; a proverbial foot in the door in preparation for their reintroduction.

It had been a splendid idea. Subliminal messaging had served her well in the past and she was certain it would work once again today.

The only problem was…

"Not a single word. It really is a shame. He was such a diligent man, way better than the rest of these lay-abouts that's for sure." She said while shooting a glare over at a particular waitress who seemed more intent on taking smoke breaks than serving customers.

Apparently, Shirou Emiya had quit.

"None of this makes any sense." Cinder spoke out loud. The person that she had met that day hardly seemed like the type to let mere words affect him.

"You're telling me. Now we have to find a new baker good enough to match the deserts we promised." The owner's face contorted with discomfort. "It's not even like we were reprimanding him that hard anyways. We even made it clear he wasn't in trouble just in case he was the type to bolt at a moment's notice."

The owner moaned at her upcoming predicament but Cinder had long since tuned her out. From an average citizen's perspective, quitting less than two weeks into your job just wasn't something you do. However, from a more…tactical mindset; disappearing is exactly what one should do when they realize that they have been compromised.

"Excuse me Miss where are you going?" The café owner called, unsure of how to respond to the sudden flux of rabid interest and sharp dismissal. In Cinder's eyes, the woman had already devolved into something less than human, an object to be discarded after it had failed to serve its purpose.

What didn't make sense to her was where he had caught on to her. Other than his slip of the tongue, he had played the role of innocent waiter down to the letter. If it wasn't for his performance stopping some of the men on her pay roll, she wouldn't have suspected him as anything more than a spy: one who had the information but had no formal means of defending them. Her apprehension toward tipping off his potential employer being the only thing stayed her hand in silencing him personally after their first formal encounter.

That had all changed when she had tailed him that following night.

The sheer professionalism that he had dismantled those men; had piqued her interest. Ending someone with such a delectably, brutal efficiency for combat seemed like such a waste in her eyes. Plus, until Emerald and Mercury returned from keeping the White Fang in line in her absence she had little to spare when it came to pawns of any value. That being said, it wasn't as if she could just allow such a leak to exist over her seeds. Too much watering would drown them before they had a chance to flower.

At the resonance of heels touching down on the concrete entrance to the café is when it had hit her.

Who said that all her enemies had to be met with death? In fact, now that she thought about it, he would be much more useful to her alive. Information was a two-way street; if handled the wrong way it could harm just as much as it could help. Misinformation felled far more men than the sword ever could.

But why stop at mere falsehoods when she could have a genuine fallacy?

To convert him to her side…one of Ozpin's little toy soldiers…snatched from right under his nose. She could already imagine it; the look on his comrades faces once the truth was finally unveiled. Oh, the chaos that could be reaped from such a betrayal was getting her restless just thinking about it.

A humbling wind swept her back to reality. Her recently muted senses overwhelmed by the noise pollution of a prospering city. It's throngs of sheep looking even more disgusting than they did normally.

None of that would be possible if she couldn't find him. It had already been days since Shirou Emiya's silently proclaimed resignation. For all she knew he could be half way across Sanus by now. She would have to move quickly.

XxXxX

While, Cinder pondered where she would begin her search for information, another individual was already hot on the trail of their own. She came to a stop at a modest sized building deep within Vale's vast commercial district, hidden and unassuming amongst the louder more business-driven giants that dotted the area. Swarms of shoppers flooded adjacent blocks with the expedience of a freeway, shrouding the storefront behind a wall of marching feet and chatter.

Bright, golden irises swiveled in their sockets chaotically; had she not been hand walked to the location in the past she would have haphazard to image a scenario where she would be able to track down the place.

Navigating her way through the flow of traffic, she entered the building; the pleasant ring of a bell marking her entrance. Books: rows and rows of books packing one's vision to the brim and spilling out into the realms of unconscious thought. At the center of this labyrinth, a single well-muscled back faced the entrance, its owner humming an off-key tune as they went about organizing their collection.

"Welcome to _Tukson's Book Trade_: Home to Every Book Under the Sun." it was in this moment that the owner of the establishment turned to face their newest customer; his gruff features creasing with a sense of familiarity. "Ah Blake! Good to see you!"

"Morning to you too Tukson," Blake returned the greeting.

"How have you been? The uh…", Tukson took a moment to survey the room for any prying ears; paying a careful amount of attention to those with animalistic features, "… "Camping Trip" turn out okay I presume?"

"Mostly, ran into a couple hiccups…no thanks to you." Blake said, applying a thin coat of malice to the end of her sentence; her palm taking to her hip in a stance of accusation.

Rough hands faced upward in surrender. "Hey, you got past it didn't you?"

"Maybe this time, but there were definitely details that you could have gone over instead of leaving me out to dry." She said with frown.

"Ha, I suppose but too much information spoils what's to come. Would ruin the story." Tukson chuckled unapologetically.

"This plot twist I could have could have gone without." Blake grumbled underneath her breath.

"Hey, well at least you learned something. Make any new friends?" He asked, quick to change the subject away from things focusing too much on the past.

"Not exactly, the person I've spoken with the most nearly sent me through a tree the first time we met." Blake mentioned with arms crossed. "She calmed down after a while, still seems a little jumpy whenever I pullout my sword for some reason though."

"Just give it time. Your parent hadn't exactly seen eye to eye when they first met either and look at them now."

Her mouth crinkled as if she had just tasted something awful. "…Gross…"

"The only thing gross here is your mind missy." He boomed with laughter. "So, what can I get you? Another romance novel maybe?"

Blake's eyes lit up, the black bow on her head rustling for just a second. "Ergh…um…Not this time."

"You sure?" Tukson annunciated with a raised brow. Without breaking eye contact, he reached underneath his counter to reveal a small, black, hardback book with red etching and the depiction of a stylized white figure in a thinking pose.

"_Ninjas of Love: Strategist_?!" She intoned with wonder. "I thought that that wasn't supposed to release for another three months."

"Home to Every Book Under the Sun." He grinned smugly.

Her claws reached for the book with a primal need. It was only through sheer willpower that she reeled in her desires. "No…I came here for something specific."

Seeing her somber shift in tone, Tukson returned the book lest it leads to any further temptation. Blake's eager breathing settling to an even calm the second it was out of sight. "…Alright, what do you need?"

"A book on wolves." Blake said, Tukson's previous welcoming persona veiling behind a mask of professionalism.

"What kind?"

"The White kind." A lilt forming in her speech at the shade.

"I see…" He said knowingly before proceeding to write down the specific location on a sheet of paper. "Back left corner, fifth shelf."

She nodded her thanks, making her way to the designated serial numbers that he had listed. With his instruction she arrived at a wall of books labeled "Environmental Biology"; zeroing in to the selection he had specified, the set of books being the only ones who did not match the established criteria the others on the shelf followed.

To the average customer, the misplaced books would simply be an honest mistake. It wasn't uncommon for an employee to place products where they didn't belong every now and then. Blake, however, knew that was not the case. Tukson, contrary to him image, was a rather meticulous man and would often spend countless hours making sure that every single book was in its intended place; even going so far as to chase down exceptionally thoughtless customers who had made a mess of his store.

He didn't leave his collection unorganized.

Where there should have been three books detailing Remnant's, various creatures were instead the titles: _Dreadful Beasts and How __**Not**__ to Find Them_, _Edmond B. Sun: The Unsung Hero of Remnant_, and _Behind the Curtain_.

She removed the books from their un-rightful places with a thoughtful expression.

A Huntsman's survival guide on what variants of Grimm are to be expected in a given location; a biography on the man who pioneered the Dust refinement process; and a mystery novel following a detective and a thief who, who…huh she couldn't seem to remember how that one ended. She would have to brush up on that one again.

While her mind went about deciphering Tukson's message her body moved on autopilot, coming to the counter and checking out the mismarked books; her consciousness only returning to her surroundings to reminder herself to also check out a certain katana related book that she had been looking forward to.

She was so deep in thought that she almost bumped into a heterochromatic girl on her way out the door.

"Excuse me," Blake mouthed curtly with a bow.

The girl didn't say a word, green eyes flashing a mischievous stare at the book that was pointed outward from Blake's grip.

Blake gasped before sheathing her newest copy of _Ninjas of Love: Strategist_ between her other selections and away from prying eyes, a blush reaching the top of her hair as she rushed out the door in shame.

XxXxX

Elsewhere, hours later, a pub had just recently opened its doors.

It was the middle of the day, far from peak hours of operation. Despite this, its warm wooden walls buzzed with activity; the establishments respectable assortment of bar themed dishes attracting just enough to fill more than a few seats. The only exception to this rule being a single disheveled man already sporting a healthy flush to his cheeks.

With a bit of effort, the man created a sorry excuse for a window with his fingers, using the view like a scope to enhance the view of various barmaid's skirt lengths. One of the bar patron's in particular: a woman sporting deep, shoulder length black hair and an athletic figure jumped into his view. Her skin tight, ripped jeans accentuated dangerously upon the bar stool as she leaned in to speak to the bartender.

The grey cardigan seemed like an odd choice though. He wasn't one for fashion beyond muted colors but for some reason he felt as though red would have suited her much better.

Didn't stop her from having a nice ass though.

As if the world took offense to his very thought, a familiar katana filled his window. He didn't relinquish his view immediately. Hoping beyond hope that if he pretended like he didn't notice her she would just go away. When the image failed to disappear from his vision, he released a sigh; dismantling his peephole to look back at a shade of red similar to his own filled with a resigned disgust.

"What?" Qrow finally broke the silence.

"Must you always insist on being a failure as a human being…brother." The woman spitting the normally endearing word back at him as if it were a slur.

Qrow merely shrugged a response, working his way through another glass to add to his pile.

"You do realize it's noon, right?" She said, claiming the seat across from him.

"I know." He said while flashing a signal for another drink to a passing bar maid. "It's a little late to start drinking but it should be fine as long as I make up for it."

"I need information." The woman cut straight to the chase.

"Figured as much. You wouldn't approach me in Vale of all places unless you wanted something important."

"I wasn't planning to but you seemed intent on staying home for a change." History dancing upon the words that left her tongue.

"Boss wasn't happy about it but I was able to convince him otherwise." It's not like he would be much use in a far-off land at this point. They already knew Amber's assailant would come back for her. It was just a matter of when.

If that wasn't enough of a reason in itself, a certain one-armed man routing around definitely was. With that man's track record, he was bound to stick his nose somewhere he shouldn't eventually.

"Shirou Emiya, I need information about him?" Once again, the name of the one man that Qrow was hesitant to talk about resurfaced. Just his luck.

Across the pub, the same woman who Qrow had been inspecting perked up at the name. Casting an ear in their direction.

"Weird how after months of hearing nothing about the guy all of a sudden he keeps popping up in conversation." Qrow's expression creasing with displeasure despite still having the taste of his favored whiskey still on his tongue.

"Do you have it or not?" Raven hissed, clearly uncomfortable being exposed in broad daylight.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"You first." She retorted, causing Qrow to clam up on the spot. Outside of their first meeting, he had made sure to stay clear of the man as much as possible. Something that Raven had saw fit to make a jab at what little pride he had. What type of protector would he be if he couldn't face what he sought to protect those he cares about against?

Seeing that Qrow would not speak again unless prompted, Raven continued on. "He was tolerable at first but the effect his actions have had on the clan has been…costly."

"You want revenge." He said, slouching in his seat.

"Ozpin may be fine with dragging his feet through the mud but a Branwen is not."

Qrow clicked his tongue. "Sorry, not buying it."

She shot a questioning look his way while her palm clutched on the handle of her blade.

"All that happened ages ago, if this really was about the clan then you would have made an effort to collect what was owed to you then. Not years later."

"What are you implying?"

"All I'm say is that it seems unlikely that all of this suddenly starts to matter when your brat just had a run in with him and came out with a fear of buttering her own toasts."

"This is a clan matter _Qrow_. It isn't about her." Raven insists, her gloved hands digging deeply into the wooden table.

"Just because you say so doesn't mean it isn't true."

"_**Qrow**__._"

"Yeah, yeah what is it that you need?"

"Anything that would be useful in against him."

"That's…vague."

"His base of operations, his abilities, his semblance, his weapon of choice, his motivations, his fears, his-."

"Alright, alright I get it!" Qrow snapped back, a satisfied smirk making its way to Raven's lips. Even as a Ruthless Bandit Overlord and an Alcoholic Huntsman, siblings would still relish in getting under their siblings' skin. "Guy's a bit of a mystery. All I know for sure is that he doesn't like to stay in one place for very long. Tends to not stick to any of the Kingdoms…until recently of course."

"The outer districts." Raven clarified. Qrow made no motions to determine how she knew about that.

"Yeah, showed up in Junior's place not too long ago; like I'd said before, had a run in with Ol' Firecracker. Hit her with something he called Hypnosis."

"His semblance?" Raven questioned.

"Junior thinks so." Qrow however did not seem convinced.

"Hm, he hardly seems like the type."

"Not like yours is exactly a perfect fit either." Qrow mouthed prior to taking a particularly long swig to deflect his sister's glare.

Kindred Link: the semblance of Raven Branwen that allowed her to teleport instantly to those she is emotionally bonded to no matter the distance. In Ozpin's words "A rather kind ability". One that seemed out of character for a woman who had severed all connections to her husband and child in favor of raiding and pillaging helpless villagers.

The comment was not ignored but it was placed off to the side to make way for the main topic of conversation. "I take it that that isn't the only thing that it does."

"You'd be right. I never connected the dots before but Yang's recent behavior falls in line with a bunch of other cases that sprung up where he's stepped foot." Notwithstanding the places that he "saved" of course.

"Do you think it is a side effect of this ability?"

"I thought you didn't care about her?"

"I just like knowing what I'm getting myself into." She quickly denied. Qrow merely snorted at her rationalization.

"Maybe, need to look more into it. I was always under the impression that his semblance was something else to be honest."

"And that being." She was beginning to become impatient now.

"Look, I can't just dump everything here at once. I'll scrounge something up for you later. The file is going to take a while to put together though since you insist on "living off the grid" and what not."

"One-week, same time." Raven established; with her ability it would be redundant specifying a location to meet at. All that matter was that he knew when she would stop by.

A grunt of discontent left her when he didn't even bother to voice whether or not he approved of the agreement. She was not happy with the excuse but she was not unreasonable. Qrow's role as the foremost scout for Ozpin's little cult was not a position that he skipped out on. The sheer volume of his report was bound to be massive.

Wordlessly, she took her leave, leaping out of a nearby window. A corvid fluttering into the sky not long after her descent. A frown made its way to the lone Branwen's face, the comfortable environment of the pub now spoiled by the recent conversation. Not that dissuaded him in the least. If anything, he was now even more motivated to get plastered as soon as possible.

The woman he had been eyeing materialized into the corner of his vision, her features masked by a streak of black bangs. Had she approached earlier he may have made a pass at her but after his most recent "family reunion" he was no longer feeling up for it. Her form retreating out of the establishment without having ordered a single thing.

XxXxX

Further near the closing of the day at Beacon Academy one Glynda Goodwitch stalked the halls. Her heeled soles reverberating off the tile flooring sharply and with a sense of purpose.

Ever the studious one, Glynda had her nose deep within her tablet; a despondent sigh exiting her lungs as she readjusted her glasses. Her frown marring her lips harshly as she shook her head before tapping away at the screen of her device with a renewed vigor. The adjustments she had made, however, did not seem to improve her mood and only caused her brow to crease even further with frustration.

"Going for another midnight stroll I presume?" A voice that had sounded far too sagely for its youthful tone touched Glynda's ears.

"Why yes actually. I've been finding them to be quiet enlightening as of late." She answered from behind her tablet, not bothering to look up to acknowledge the face the academy's headmaster.

"I never considered you to be the sentimental type." Ozpin implored; brow cocked.

"One of us has to be the practical one in this arrangement." Not that that stopped the being from derailing all her meticulously crafted planning at a sheer whim. Honestly, with how often the man went off script Glynda spent more time planning for her plans to be overruled in favor of some kind of enlightened overarching plot. Just one of the many quirks that came with her position as Deputy Headmistress of Beacon Academy.

"Quiet." A pregnant silence followed Ozpin's curt response.

It wasn't until several moments of lip biting contemplation later that Glynda had determined whether or not what she had in mind was worth adding to the plate of a man who literally held the fate of the world in his grasps.

"I met someone. A man in the woods. He is…remarkable to say the least." She finally found the courage to mention. Her graze following the night peaking in from an adjacent window at the edge of her screen in favor of her superior.

"How unexpected." Ozpin's voice displaying not even a touch of surprise despite his words. "A fanciful meeting under the stars, away from the distractions of society. Quiet the romantic getaway Glynda."

Glynda's composure never broke but Ozpin had existed long enough to take account of her tells. Her concentration had finally vacated from her tablet and was now facing him directly. A touch of pink dusting the tip of her normally pale ears as she cleared her throat of anything that may interfere with the coming explanation.

Glynda was, in most cases, a heavily guarded individual but with just the right amount of prodding she would become much more forthcoming. Her distaste for dead air while in his presence and her tendency for overexplaining herself while flustered being two prime examples. Thankfully, she only became this way while in the presence of those she had known for an extensive number of years, the like of which were all aware of the secrets discussed behind closed doors.

It was part of the reason he had set her on the path to encounter Shirou Emiya in the first place.

"Nothing of the sort." Her tone never deviating from a perfectly even plane. "I'm merely providing him with instruction as compensation for attacking him upon our first meeting."

"You attacked him?" Ozpin said, hiding his expression behind the rim of his mug.

"Not intentionally. I wasn't expecting to run into another human while in the Emerald Forest and lashed out at him on instinct."

"I see. That could have ended poorly." Ozpin pondered; it would appear that this Shirou fellow that Qrow was so wary of even more skilled than he imagined. It was one thing to dispatch a handful of untrained men and another to survive a surprise attack from someone on the level of Glynda.

Not to say that he was at all shaken by the discovery in the least. He had read Qrow's file on the man; beyond the critical lens that Qrow tended to shine upon him there were distinct accounts of said Emiya going toe to toe with Huntsmen in the past and coming out on top. Glynda just did him the service of confirming that not all of Qrow's concerns were unfounded.

"I thought so as well. It was why I was so quick to offer him free tutoring; not that I have made any strides in that department…" Glynda said, her voice breaking into a slight melancholy flavor for just a moment.

"Really? Is he that poor of a student?" Outside of a few glaring exceptions, there were few that left Glynda's classes empty handed.

"Quite the opposite really. I believe it is my skill as an instructor that is insufficient." She admitted, crossing her arms almost as if to hide more of herself from the shame.

"In what way? Possession of an unwieldy semblance perhaps?" Ozpin asked, shifting the conversation in the direction that he desired.

"No, he seems rather proficient with it; much better than others with a similar background in fact. His ability to Reinforce all aspects of an object is refined to the point that even mundane objects can used as deadly weapons." She said, her analysis earning a tinge of confusion to develop in Ozpin's mind. From Qrow's reports, Shirou Emiya possessed the semblance of Weapon Creation, not this…Reinforcement.

"Hm that is interesting. Though, it isn't uncommon for those with natural aptitude to become rather unruly." It was one of the underlying problems with today's society. Unlocking one's semblance for all intents and purpose made individuals superhuman. Depending on the extent of their gift, a child could feel less inclined to adhere to the guidelines etched out for the common man.

"By my accounts I don't think he has a disrespectful bone in his body." Her professional exterior cracking just slightly to allow a tender smile to seep through. "No, my inability to teach him anything meaningful lies solely with my ineptitude as a combat instructor."

"Now Glynda, don't you think your being a bit too harsh on yourself?"

"Not at all, his skill level is merely far too advanced for someone such as myself to provide anything of value." Glynda said through a grimace, her fingers balling into fists. There were many things Glynda Goodwitch took pride in but out of all of them her ability to teach and her spotless record when handling debts were among the top of the list. Her current predicament must have been eating her up inside.

"What of other subjects of study?"

The question posed a perplexed expressed to develop on Glynda's face. "Other subjects?"

"I hadn't hired you to solely fill the role of a training advisor. Part of working at Beacon Academy calls professors to be flexible in their curriculum just as we expect our students to be in their development." Ozpin answered with the expectations that he had laid out for every Professor during their interview.

A blank stare was his answer. Quiet the rare sight on his Deputy Head Mistress.

"You did evaluate him beyond just basic combat, correct?" Ozpin punctuated with a particularly long sip.

The slight redness of the of her ears and her sudden retreat was all he needed to decipher the answer to that question. Masking her expression behind her focus toward revising her lesson plan was a nice touch.

Tonight's impromptu information debriefing had been enlightening to say the least.

Ozpin had always believed in giving others another chance, had he been burned every bridge at a moment's notice he wouldn't have nearly as much support as he did today. It was in his hope, that with time, Glynda's interactions with this Emiya fellow would unveil a side that Qrow may have overlooked; a side that would prove him as a trustworthy enough individual to bring into the fold.

But in the off chance that Qrow was proven correct…well preparing for the enemy you know was much preferable to the one you never knew existed.

XxXxX

The following morning, in an unremarkable corner of Vale, Beacon's youngest team leader in history happily plugging away at a pack of chocolate chip cookies (the likes of which definitely had not been intended for a single person to put away in one sitting). It had been a long and eventful week for her and she was not going to let something as minor as cavities stop her from enjoying her weekend to the fullest.

Looking back at it all, it was surreal just how much had happened in such a short amount of time. She had assisted in thwarting a dust robbery; been personally invited to Beacon Academy two years in advance; decapitated her first Nevermore (which was awesome by the way); been put in charge of her own team; and somehow managed to resolve an internal dispute between her and her partner Wiess all within two months.

A fluttering sensation filled her with excitement at what the rest of her time at Beacon would entail. A whirlwind of fantastical scenarios flashed within her mind faster than she could comprehend them. Her dream was becoming more closer and closer by the day and she would have her team backing her up every step of the way.

…Her team.

At that moment, the pen detailing tales of heroism being written within her mind fell from the pages. The sweets that she had been delighting up until this point tasting more and more like sand with each chew.

As Team Leader her desires were no longer solely her own. It wasn't just about her anymore, their concerns came first and hers second. She had already dealt with friction between her new teams through her and Wiess and she could only imagine what other struggles the team would face in the future. The inevitability of human conflict, however, was not what had soiled her mood but rather what was happening in the moment that concerned her.

Yang Xiao Long, her only sister, and the Y to Team RWBY: was not okay.

She did well in concealing it from others but all their years spent together couldn't keep anything hidden from Ruby for long. Ever since that night, something had stuck with her sister; a hesitance that bogged down the confidence in her step. Emotions that Ruby hadn't seen since the expedition they had made as kids was beginning to bubble underneath the surface of that manufactured smile that she had taken to wearing.

Yang, her sister who she owed the world to, was suffocating; stalked by a terror that she could not escape.

Something had to be done about it. But she couldn't for the life of her figure out what. She had already tried the direct approach but Yang was stubborn and would suffer in silence for as long as she thought her situation would inconvenience those around her. It was a trait that she equally loved and hated about her sister. When they were younger it wasn't uncommon for Yang go out of her way for her sister despite her own wellbeing; at one point even venturing out into town to fetch cough medicine for Ruby when she herself was stricken with a fever.

An uncharacteristic sense of dread filled Ruby's core. She didn't know what to do. With enough hope, Yang would return to normal on her own but even she wasn't naïve enough to ward out the possibility of the opposite happening, forever plagued by an irrational fear.

Rising from her musing, Ruby came to a stop at her destination. A stairwell with a simple sword shaped sign etched with the words "The Lonely Mountain" as the only form of advertisement for the store entrance. Anything more extravagant would simply be overkill given the fame of its owner. The personal workshop of the blacksmith charged with forging the blue prints drawn up by Vale's future heroes.

It hadn't been the intended purpose behind her visit but there must have been something that Vale's number one expert on weapons could tell her about Yang's condition.

XxXxX

As Beacon's youngest future huntress descended down the staircase, a woman sitting on a bench located near the foot of the shop's entrance released a breath that she hadn't known she had been holding. The book that she had buried herself in so thoroughly lowering to her lap.

Cinder Fall was not having the best luck as of late.

Not only was Shirou Emiya proving to be more elusive than she imagined but in her search for information she had also discovered that Qrow Branwen was no longer scouring for leads outside the kingdoms like her information had predicted. Granted, discovering this now was much more preferable to being caught flat footed by his presence later but not by much. Unlike all the other annoyances, he was one that could not be taken lightly.

After an entire day of fruitlessly picking apart every notable member of the underground that she could think of she had decided to take a step away from her search for just a moment. Frustration would only lead her to becoming sloppy, something that could be fatal for her plans now more than ever given recent discoveries.

So, she had instead directed her energy toward something useful; arriving at the workshop of Vale's leading blacksmith to determine whether or not it had a place at this particular stage of her plans. On one hand, such a reputable establishment coming to harm would ratchet up the unease in the Kingdom's people; breaking the perception that certain businesses were safe from harm under the right situations. However, on the other hand, doing so would also likely call down the wrath of the locale huntsman population; a sizable portion of them having built up a cordial relationship with the person who had provided them with the first step to their careers as Huntsmen.

This mental debate of hers had never come to a consensus. The sight of a familiar red hooded girl capturing all of her attention.

If was an irrational precaution. Cinder was well aware that the girl had not seen her face and outside of activating her new Maiden powers in her attire of choice that she wasn't likely to be recognized. Be that as it may, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

With the girl's presence she would have to cut her reconnaissance short. It was much too early to call on her alibi as a foreign exchange student and sticking around to form memories that may conflict with that image was just asking for trouble.

Cinder was in the middle of pondering where she could resume her search for her target when the voice of the girl that she had just avoided rang out from the shop's entrance.

"Hephaestus~!"

"Ah, a customer? I'm sorry but the owner is currently busy right now." Strange, she was under the impression that the blacksmith didn't possess any employees.

"I'm here for-Woah! It's so dark!"

"Yes, please be careful there are a lot of-" That overly profession manner of speaking, there was no way he could be here of all places, not after she had gone through all the effort to locate him. It was completely asinine; fortune just doesn't fall into your lap when you least expect it.

"I'm blind! Woah! Woah! Gah!" A crash much more spectacular than a girl as small as Ruby should have been capable of thundered within the weapon shop.

"…-Tools all over the floor."

XxXxX

A pained expression made its way to Shirou's face at the harsh sound of metal crashing to the floor. Shaking his head, he descended from his position at the top of a ladder; navigating his way through the blackness of the establishment to flip a circuit breaker on the nearby wall. The shop illuminating with the exception of a couple of stray electrical lighting ballasts scattered about the ceiling.

He shot the one he had been working on with a frown before turning his attention to the mess located near the entrance of the shop…and then toward the red cloak planted face first in a pile of tools and miscellaneous Huntsmen goods. To be honest, outside of the tools that he had brought with him, the girl had miraculously managed to keep her spill fairly isolated. The mess surrounding her being more due to the random and haphazard nature that the owner kept the shop than the fall itself. In fact, the manner which she had knocked over some of the shop's goods may have organized it better than had been before.

Clearing the pile of equipment that had fallen on top of the figure, he gave her a gentle nudge to verify whether or not she was still with the living. "Hey, you alright?"

"Guhhhh, ow…" The bundle of red groaned pathetically.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said with a snort to keep himself from chuckling at the bundle's current predicament. "Here let me help you up."

"Sank you." It mumbled, taking the offered hand to lift itself to its full height of just barely the middle of his torso. The red bundle shook to clear any lingering cobwebs; its hood coming undone to reveal the youthful face of a girl with black hair bearing red highlights and…

"…Silver eyes." Shirou voiced with a mixture of bewilderment and wonder.

"Uh…yeah?" She said, a puzzled expression coming to her face. What was up with white haired guys and her eyes these days?

She lingered on the thought for just a second before a sharp spike of outrage filled her tiny form. "Hey! What's the big idea leaving all these things where people can trip and stuff?!"

"There was a sign." Shirou answers unceremoniously.

"Nuh uh, or else I totally would have seen it."

Her attention was suddenly drawn to Shirou's finger pointing at a sheet of paper on the open wooden door, one written in owner's near Times New Roman penmanship reading "_Closed for Repairs"_.

The following "Oh" was said less verbally and more visually via the perfect oval shape of her mouth.

"A recent power outage fried a lot of the wiring to the lights of the building. The owner had the shop closed down while I worked so that customers wouldn't get hurt trying to navigate the shop in the dark." One of the detracting factors that came with owning a business below street level. It may be more interesting aesthetically but it suffered from natural lighting and display space. Then again with how the rest of the shop was (not) organized, it seemed that the owner was focused less on how her merchandise looked good on a wall and more on how it would fair in the hands of someone who knew how to use them. Each piece of equipment lazily propped up on the shelves being a masterpiece in their own right.

"Aw man, is she at least still in?" The girl asked hopefully.

"Yes, but she seemed rather immersed in her latest project. I imagine she wouldn't want to be disturbed."

"…Oh." The Rose's form wilted; her hopes dashed. "…Well, I guess I'll just come back another time then."

A frown marred Shirou's expression as he watched her go. She just looked so pitiful. With how deeply her shoulders sagged and how heavily she dragged her feet on her way out he might as well have told her he'd kicked her puppy.

"Wait!" Had she been a Faunus he imaged that now would have been the moment that her ears would have shot to attention. "Maybe I can help you."

"Really?" Silver eye twinkled like starlight. The Faunus symmetry persisted, an imaginary tail wagging in place of the ears that he had imagined previously.

"I can't speak for my confidence with firearms but my understanding of traditional weaponry is above average at least." He reaffirmed.

"Ohhhhh, thank you so much!" She chirped happily. A rectangular bundle appearing to have apparated in her hands with how fast she had retrieved it from her utility belt.

"Hmmm," Shirou analyzed the weapon with a knowing look in his eyes as he moved over to a work bench located near the register. "What's wrong with it?"

"Crescent Rose has been having some trouble getting its blade out when I switch it to scythe form. It's not by a lot but it enough to be noticeable." She spoke clearly and without the normal awkward cadence that she normally did. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the issue but to her it was the equivalent of her very fingers being a second behind; they would still do what they needed to but the unresponsiveness would aggravate her to no end.

He nodded in agreement, hitting the mechanism to unfurl the weapon to its full length without needing to be prompt by its owner. The three pieces comprising the edge of the main blade of the weapon following the rest of the weapon just a tab bit slower than the rest. The care and familiarity he displayed while handling the weapon giving its owner confidence in her decision in allowing a random electrician to lay his hands on her baby.

Golden bronze veiled themselves as he ran his is palm along the weapon's surface in a trance. Its history flowing through him with each passing breath.

Suddenly, his sixth sense screamed and his eyes shot open to see a bob of red and black staring back from the other side of the counter intently. "Mind if I watch?"

She had always been a curious thing, even more so when it came to weapons, their make; their intended purpose; the personality that bled through once in the hands of its wielder: all of it fascinated her. To her, a person's weapon was a reflection of their soul; purer and more beautiful than what can be peered through the windows looking out from one's face. Dreams and aspirations given form, an extension of themselves.

Of course, he already knew this.

"Sure thing Ruby." He answered with a smile, her outlook providing him with a much-needed breath of fresh air.

Ruby's brow furrowed, wondering when she had told the man her name before dismissing the thought and chalking it up to her own lack of attention to the words that fell out of her mouth.

How else would he have known otherwise?

XxXxX

"Where did you say you found this again?" A stern woman's voice called from behind the lens of a microscope.

"A colleague of mine found it after following the rumors of a stretch of land experiencing an influx of Grimm activity in recent years. What he found was the ruins of a village, destroyed by human conflict. This was found imbedded within one of the structures." A male voice answered, his voice warped by the distant and artificial pander that came with using the video feature of a Scroll rather than the tradition call function.

"Fascinating." The microscope moved away from the sample to reveal a woman bearing tanned skin and short, curly red hair. "Was this the only one he was able to recover Professor?" She asked, bringing the sample closer to her singular eye in order to get a more personal look at it.

What lay within the grips of the woman's tweezers was a shard of metal; bright red in color. Judging from the rounded base near the edge, the remains of a spear head if she were to guess; exquisitely crafted using a method that she jealously wished she know.

"Doctor." He corrected automatically much to her amusement. "Unfortunately, yes. I take something about the sample has captured your interest."

"It's definitely better than anything I've made yet; can't even imagine what it went up against to break it."

"Interesting, with how exemplary your weapons are, such praises are not to be given without merit." He said while adjusting his glasses from behind the screen. "Though, from your tone, I imagine that is not the only thing that you discovered."

"Can't say." She answered, never sparing a moment to turn away from the shard. "I'll have to run a few more tests to be sure."

"Very well, I'll leave it in your care for now. It isn't as if it would prove insightful while in the hands of a novice such as myself anyways."

"Hm," Was her only indication that she had been listening to anything he had said; seeing that his presence was no longer welcome, he ended the call.

The moment the screen had turned black the blacksmith brought the shard to her bare finger, watching intently as the jagged edge of the metal ushered out a thin stream of red liquid to run from the appendage. Blood continuing to run freely for as long as she held the mysterious metal to her fingertip. It wasn't until the remains of the spear was lifted from her skin that her Aura finally came into effect, sealing the wound within second without even a scar to show for it.

A feeling that she hadn't felt in years swelled within her chest. A desire to bring her craft to new heights.

Truth be told, she had plateaued long ago. Any work beyond the admissions from the Huntsmen academies had brought her little to no joy. She couldn't even recall the last time she made anything out of her own free will.

But this…this changed everything.

She had heard of Semblances with the ability to bypass Aura but never a weapon, unenhanced by dust and without the will of the user to dictate its actions. Something interesting had just arrived at her doorstep, a new method of smithing that she wasn't aware of. Another ceiling to break through.

Casting her singular eye toward the clock, she shelved her giddiness to exit her workshop and enter into the storefront to check on how the repairman she had hired was doing.

Light shined back at her, which more than she could say when she had left it to him. Seeing the empty ladder, the smith scanner her shop for her wayward repairman only to see a familiar red hood bouncing up and down at one of her workbenches.

The second silver had locked on to her a rush of rose petals wrapped her up in its embrace. "Hephaestus! Hi."

Hephaestus let out a soft chuckle as she returned the hug. "It's good to see you too Ruby. How's Beacon treating you?"

"Oh, it's been great! You'll never guess what happened."

"And what's that?" She said, a smile making its way to her lips at the girl's antics.

"They made me the leader of my very own team. You're looking at the brand-new leader of Team RWBY." She boasted proudly, puffing her chest out in what she imagined was a noble stance. "And yes…it can get a little confusing…"

"Look at you, youngest student to be accepted into Beacon and a Team Leader to boot; with how much glory you've hogged already there'll be none left for your sister." Ruby's stance faltered for just a second. "How is Yang doing by the way? I haven't seen her since she picked up Ember Celica."

"She's~…doing~…good?" Ruby's eyes flashed over to the white-haired stranger examining her scythe before turning back to Hephaestus. "Listen, can we talk more about that…maybe later…"

Hephaestus' jolly expression turned sour as she noted how meek her favorite customer had become at the mentioning of her sister. "Sure thing Ruby, no problem. So, what brings you by today?" She said shifting the subject for her patron's sake.

"Oh, just need some work done on Crescent Rose. Shirou's got it though."

"Shirou?" She said, turning to the man inspecting one of her creations (the likes of which who's name she just now realized she hadn't asked). "The guy I hired to work on the lighting?"

"Yeah! I didn't think he'd be any help either."

"I'm still here you know." He said without any real malice behind his voice.

"But he turned out to know way more than I thought. He may even know more about weapons than you Hephaestus."

Hephaestus' remaining eye creased into near slits at the accusation. "Really now?"

"Hardly, as if I could compare to a literal God of Smithing."

"God of Smithing?" The older woman echoed.

"Nothing, just a bit of an inside joke of mine." Shirou answered with a light chuckle.

Seeing that Shirou had finished tinkering, Ruby rushed over to his side. "Is it done yet?"

"Just about, I did some realignments to the gears and greased the joints but if you want it back to one hundred percent capability, you're going to want to change out the blades. They seem to have been warped just enough to interfere with the transformation process."

"Ah, must have been the Nevermore." Ruby said, while bringing her fist to her open palm in a gesture of realization.

"Nevermore?" Hephaestus questioned, last time she checked Beacon's initiation didn't involve Grimm of such notoriety.

"Yeah, it was Ah-wesome! Used Crescent Rose to drag it up a cliff and everything!" Ruby cheered in a voice that seemed far too excited to be attributed to the decapitation of a giant bird monster. The sound effects being produced from her mouth collaborating with the animated gestures of her body to illustrate the scene like some kind of strange interpretive dance.

"That would explain the warping." Hephaestus commented, glancing over at Shirou's handy work.

"Hm, Grimm may not be as heavy as they look but one of that size would still require a great deal of strength to lift." Shirou droned on.

"Haha, thanks but I could have never done it if it wasn't for my partner's Semblance doing most of the work." Ruby said sheepishly.

"Regardless, pulling off something like that at your age is still quite remarkable. You should be proud." A light blush crept up Ruby's cheeks at his words. It was rare for her to get compliments, let alone from handsome men (her dad and uncle didn't count).

"You've encountered a Nevermore before?" Hephaestus questioned. Citizens of the Kingdom's seldom left their borders. Only Huntsman and their regional equivalents could hope to survive an encounter with a Grimm of that caliber. Anyone else might as have be a sitting duck.

"Anyways, I would suggest putting an order for more blades with the Owner. Can't have me stealing away her business from under her nose. Might want to get a couple spare sets made too just in case." Shirou quickly changed the subject, not even considering pretending that he had acknowledged what the woman had said.

"Agreed," Hephaestus said while surveying Shirou's work for any discrepancies. It was nowhere near her level. From the way some of pieces looked to have been moved, there had been a lot of guess work involved; edging more along the lines of a full-scale disassembly than a routine diagnostic. But given what she had hired him for, the job had been handled solidly. "Slaying monsters isn't kind to a weapon. A professional Huntsman should expect to have to replace parts every three to four months."

Ruby swallowed heavily at the number. Her style of combat already required her to spend a good chunk of her allowance on ammunition as is, now she had to factor in parts as well? She could already feel her wallet crying from the inside of her pocket.

"But~," Hephaestus added as if sensing her plight, "since there is cause for celebration, I suppose I we could treat this one as a bit of a congratulatory gift for officially making it to Beacon."

The effect was immediate, the girl nearly taking the blacksmith off her feet. "Oh, thank you so much. I'll be sure to pay you back."

A wince of pain flashed on Hephaestus' face as she noted Ruby having accidently bumped into her bad knee in her excitement. Fighting through the ache in her knee, Hephaestus flashed the girl a smile. "Think nothing of it. It wouldn't be much of a gift if you ended up paying for it."

"…I guess so…" Ruby grumbled, not exactly pleased to feel indebted to one of the few people on her meager list of friends.

"You're a good kid Ruby. Stop by the shop same time next week to pick up your new blades. We can have our talk then." The woman's voice shifting to a more serious tone near the end.

Ruby's thinned into a sharp line as she returned the woman's words with a solemn nod. "Thanks again for the help Shirou!" She chirped loudly, whatever emotional baggage she carried being stowed away behind a bubbly smile.

"Not a problem, though if you don't mind me asking; I'm assuming that you go through a lot of ammo with your current design." He noted.

"Woah, I was just thinking that. Can you read minds?" Just as quickly as the conversation was heading on track Ruby's attention span thought fit to derail it.

"Hardly, I just figured with your how big your weapon is that a girl of your size would still have trouble handling it effectively unless they had thought of a method to overcome the normal strength required."

"You figured that all out just from a tinkering with her weapon for a little bit?" Hephaestus interjected; eyebrow cocked in suspicion.

"Um…isn't it obvious?" Shirou questioned, how else would a girl barely over five feet tall swing something as massive as Crescent Rose?

"_Totally can read minds"_, He heard Ruby voice in what he imagined was her attempt at a whisper.

"Right, well…have you ever thought of developing another form for your weapon on the off change that you ever ran out of ammo." Shirou asked, a complicated look developing on the girl's face.

"No, not…really…" Ruby's voice trailed off as she stared at nothing in particular. To be honest, she had never imagined how she would be able to fight without ammo to augment her swings. Even if she was stronger than she was in the past there was still only so much she could do without the assistance of recoil.

Another form? One that didn't require ammo for her to use. Her mind traced back the steps she had undergone to develop the blue prints for her weapon. A scythe, based on the form that her mother had helped Uncle Qrow to get working.

"Um…Is she okay?" Shirou asked, unbeknownst to the girl it had been a full five minutes since she had gone into her trance like state.

"Oh, she's fine. It just how she gets whenever she's thinking about weapons." Hephaestus waved off. Instead of recoiling back at the behavior Shirou only nodded as if such a thing was the most natural thing in the world.

Picking up her cane that she had left propped up against the counter top, Hephaestus began hobbling her way back to the back room. "Well, I'll leave you back to your work."

"Will she be okay right there?"

"Another form…like Uncle Qrow's…" Ruby muttered, not at all paying any attention to the other two occupants of the room.

"No need to worry. Once she's done, she'll be out here faster than-" In the middle of Hephaestus' explanation Ruby's soul finally returned to her eyes. One of the lights above Ruby's head illuminating without warning. Then, as if a jet engine had gone off in a rose garden, the weapon shop erupted into red petals; painting the walls crimson briefly before dissipating into thin air. A whistling sounding something along the lines of "GottaFindUncleThanksKayByeBeBackNextWeek" being the only indication that a girl had once occupied the open space next to him.

"-Well that." She continued flashing a smile at Shirou's stunned expression, his hair slightly blown back from the girl's stunt.

"I'll get back to work." Shirou deadpanned.

"You do that, I'll be in the back if you need me." Just as the door to the workshop of the building was about to seal shut the woman lingered at the door for just a moment. "Also, if another customer stops by be sure to kindly show them to the door. Ruby's one thing but I could do without the entirety of Remnant stopping by to bother me."

"Of course, Boss." Shirou answered, waiting patiently for the door to fully seal shut.

He turned back to the ladder in the center of the room but before he could even think about returning to his job, his noise twitched in irritation. The smell of freshly cut roses still permeated the air but as it began to dissipate a familiar scent made its way to his nostrils. One of ash and fire.

Without even looking for the source of the smell Shirou projected his voice in the direction of a corner of the room still shrouded in darkness. "You heard the Boss, no more customers today. I'll kindly have to ask you to leave."

The unnatural depth of the shadow persisted for just a moment as if in defiance of his claims before a familiar figure of a woman melted out of the blackness and into the light.

XxXxX

Cinder could hardly believe it. After searching for so long without hearing nary a peep of his whereabouts he up and appeared right when she had least expected him. It was as if the more she searched for him the further away he became but stand still for just a moment and all of a sudden, he's right in front of her.

Destiny works in strange ways sometimes.

But she digressed. Her target was right before her and apparently with a new cover to replace the one that he had abandoned at such short notice. She wondered just where he would flee to next? Or perhaps he would bunker down for a while? Her mind already filling with possible contingencies in the occurrence that she would have to flush him out again. She had never able to rely on luck to cover for her in the past so why should she depend on it now?

Growing tired of the silence, she moved to take matters into her own hands but her target beat her to it. "Do you normally lurk around corners eavesdropping on people's conversations?"

"I merely found it difficult to insert myself into the scene." Not that she could have with that girl wandering about.

"Somehow I find that very hard to believe." He said while exhaling a huff of annoyance. There was only so much he could do now without securing the power to lighting ballasts first.

"The only customer today has been Little Red. Unless you also happen to be a teenager with bullets for brains."

"And if I am?" She said while closing the distance to her target, her fingers straying on the passing weapons and armor on her path.

"A comedian? I thought you were a Bullhead Pilot." He noted whilst sorting through his tools.

Cinder's nearly blanched at the suggestion. Behind the wheel of one of those retched machines was the last place she wanted to be after that first night.

"What can I say? I'm a woman of many…talents." She purred, expecting a blubbering mess only to be met with an unnervingly blank stare.

"What do you want?" Shirou said, seeming more irritated by her presence than anything else. "Revenge for having the gall to speak against you?"

"Quite the opposite actually."

His silence beckoned for her to continue.

"Dinner, my treat. To…make up…for my behavior when we first met." Cinder layered on a hint of uncertainty to her tone, to craft the image of a woman having difficulty getting across what she had to say.

"You want to go on a date?"

"No, nothing like that. Things at work hadn't gone well that day and I just wanted to express how sorry I am for blowing up on you like that." Like an actor in a play, she casts her gaze at just the right angle. Her manicured hand crossing her torso to cradle her opposite forearm like a lifeline, a barrier that was often subconsciously used to cope with discomfort. The action signified uncertainty, as if to brace its user for the coming rejection.

From the corner of her vision she scanned his expression. His poker face was ironclad but she knew what really lay beneath that façade. Men were baser, simple creatures; eager to please for the most pitiful of rewards. No matter how intelligent they thought they were the result was always the same.

They would fall.

The bait had been set. Now it was just a matter of time before the rat fell within her trap. He would scurry along at first, unaware of the danger but by the time he developed any suspicions it would already be too late. The cheese that he had so happily delighted in being the very thing that would bring about his end.

Burning embers peaked through a curtain of black, peering up at him bashfully. He recoiled back for just a second, fissures developing along his defense.

It was time to spring her trap.

She twiddled a lock of her hair nervously. The act of perfecting one appearance subliminally transmitting a feeling of interest in her target. "Though, if that's what you want it to be…a date that is…I wouldn't mind." Holding her breath, a splash of blush was painted on to her illusion.

He was hesitating longer than expected, no doubt taken aback by her advances. He would struggle but with something so sweet dangled before his nose, he would not be able to resist and before long he too would careen himself to his doom. All for the smallest chance to collect a prize that would forever be out of reach.

It was actually kind of sad really: how predictably shallow people could be. Outwardly they would preach of a deeper need, that it wasn't the cover of a book that mattered but the content within. Yet the moment appearance actually came into play how quickly they would shed their masks of sophistication to unveil their true colors.

Her victory was already guaranteed. She couldn't wait to put her new pawn to use.

"Sorry, but I think I'll pass."

"Great, there's a restaurant near the CCT that has taken to using a special kind of dust to incorporate a more scientific approach to-…" Just then her brain caught up with the words that had exited his mouth. Her world of absolute causality shattering like glass.

"What did you just say?" Cinder's tone darkened, flecks of her true personality threating to burst out of the shell comprising the nervous, lovestruck girl on the surface.

"I'll pass." Shirou repeated without a hint of fanfare.

Her canines gnashed within her jaw. The affirmation of his rejection causing her soul to burn within her. Her persona like a balloon threatening to burst. "M-May I ask why?" She scrambled to put together a heartbroken expression, her haste causing her product to lack the grace of her prior works.

"I would say that it had something to with how busy I am," He said while gesturing the tools and parts scattered around him, "but that would be lying."

"To be frank, I just don't like you."

The illusion caught fire.

Immolated in a tower of righteous fury.

The sigil on her spine burned. Her own, fragile restraint being the only thing stopping the magical power from igniting her iris in a corona of angry orange.

How _**dare**_he deny what was rightfully hers!

"Excuse me, I'm the one whose treating you." Shirou not at all surprised by her sudden mood shift.

"I never asked you to do that."

"It's payback for the disrespect I showed you when we first me." She said through a seething grimace.

"Do you hear yourself? You sound more like a child repeating themselves during a tantrum rather than someone asking for forgiveness." Shirou struck back bluntly, appearing more disinterested than flustered. His apathetic response only serving to stoke the fire within Cinder more.

Beauty fashioned into an impersonation of a fish caught out of water. "Do you realize what you're turning down? How many others would jump for the same opportunity that you're squandering?"

"Then let them. I'm perfectly fine here on the ground." Shirou casted over his shoulder, not bother to watch her storm out of the shop. He still had a lot of work to do.

XxXxX

Cinder finally came to a stop in a non-descript alley, an angry orange glow threatening to spill forth from the sleeves of her cardigan. Steam rising from her panting mouth as she strangled the thundering in her chest to a manageable rhythm. The palm that had been keeping her propped up against the alley wall sizzled, the brick and mortar underneath turning into molted glass under her touch. Light of a soul on fire empowered her form as her fist struck the newly formed glass causing a spider web pattern to form around the blow.

How long had it been since she had been so…so _**humiliated**_?

She could not believe how easily he had brushed aside her charms.

The flames of her rage burned so harshly that she was hesitant to imagine what would have happened had she stayed within that insufferable place for a single second longer. Years of planning and preparation all down the drain due to the actions of a single man. She would not have been able to live with herself…let alone her master.

She could still see that dull look in his eyes even now and it infuriated her, exponentially more so than the look of outrage that Adam Taurus had displayed to her when she had first attempted to bring The White Fang under her control. At least there had been an emotion within that expression. Shirou Emiya had merely gazed upon her efforts as if he were bored. As if she were nothing but a pebble on his path; not even worthy of his attention.

She would not stand to be looked upon that way…not again.

Anger once again threaten to spiral her Maiden powers out of control. She would need a means of quenching the heat within her if she wished to maintain her sanity.

"Looky what we have here boys." Cinder Fall turned her smoldering gaze at the direction of the voice to reveal a group of Faunus blocking her path. In her current state, she must have not noticed them approaching her.

"An itty-bitty human lost and alone on our turf." The one who she assumed was the leader spoke. She put no more effort into grafting his appearance to memory.

In the short amount of time she had possessed her new power she had learned that the best way to wrangle it back under her control was to bleed off the excess.

The fabric of her outer layer incinerating into ash to reveal runes of flame crawling up her exposed arms. Heat becoming visible to the naked eye. The light of her sigil burning through her tank top with a hunger starved red.

The display caused the group of Faunus to recoil back in fear.

"You will do."

The leader didn't have a chance to speak his confusion before claws of fire encased his skull within of world of agony. His underlings moved to run but those who had tried were barred by walls of scorching heat. Their cries falling on deaf ears within the sparsely populated outer districts.

Whilst the slaughter was underway a glint of determination sparked within Cinder Fall's eyes. A vow of defiance christened by the screams of men who she didn't even know the names of. Their cries may satisfy her power but when the dust had settled, she would be left empty. A desire for the pleas of a specific nature was the only thing that would be able silence her need.

Shirou Emiya would be hers…whether he liked it or not…

XxXxX

**Author's Notes: **

**I didn't go comb through this chapter as much as the others so hopefully there aren't that many errors. I'll try to put something together within the next two to three weeks but no promises.**

**Anyway, as always, if you have any concerns feel free to review or to PM me. I read everything sent my way. **


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